A Lone Wolf's Reflection
by StarToucher
Summary: Remus Lupin looks sadly at his worn reflection in the mirror, and thinks back over his years at Hogwarts, and the days when Sirius,Peter, James and Lily were still by his side. Seven wonderful years and so many happy memories. When did it all change?
1. Prologue : Once Bitten, Twice Shy

**A Lone Wolf's Reflection**

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.

Summary: Remus Lupin thinks back over his life, right back from when he was bitten. So much has happened in those years. He has lost so much, seen so much, witnessed so much darkness. But somewhere, surely, there is still hope that he can be the person he once was. Can the memories of the Marauders, and of his happy time at Hogwarts with his friends bring him comfort?

**a/n** Time frame is Marauders to Book 7. Although the first two chapters focus on Lupin, there will be alot about the Marauders in later chapters, then about Harry and eventually Lupin/Tonks.

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I stare at myself in the cracked and ancient mirror. Searching desperately for a sign, however small it may be, that the smiling, laughing, carefree person that I once was is still there behind that tired and dejected reflection.

I gaze into it for a long time, but the only person I see staring back at me is the one I always see now. The person who recently I have come to despise.

And yet, I have so many memories of a time when I was happy, even when the shadow of darkness hung over my world the way it does again now. And as I stare in my reflection, distorted because of the ancient glass, I look further, deeper, right inside myself and try and work out when everything changed.

OoO

I was just five years old when this all started. This twisted curse, this endless torment, which has cast a dark, frightening and powerful shadow over my entire life. I can still remember it. Although it was so long ago the memory of that day has not faded at all from my mind. That cold, still, night in mid September, the full moon had just risen in the clear sky, and I was standing just outside the back door of my home, gazing out upon the woods and fields that stretched before my eyes and disappeared into the gloom.

Why was I not asleep? Inside, in bed, as every five year old should be at such a late hour. I ask myself that now, wishing with every fibre of my heart that I _had_ been, safely tucked away in the warmth and comfort of the soft blankets. I wish that the howl that fell upon my ears had been a bad dream, nothing more than a nightmare that I could be woken from.

The howl should have scared me; I believe that was its intent. Its hollow and chilling sound did not invite company, nor did it evoke pity or compassion, sending a shiver down my spine so that I felt the hairs on the back of my neck sand on end. But instead of fleeing, of returning inside into the safe, familiar interior of my house and shutting the door as fast as I could, I was intrigued, standing still upon the doorstep, my face alert, my ears open for the cry to come again, curiosity overpowering all notion of fear that had sprung up inside of me.

It was to be the first in a long line of stupidly foolish mistakes, all of which I have come to regret bitterly. At five years old can we really be responsible for our actions? Can we really be expected to make the right decisions? Maybe not, but today, when I recall how dearly I have paid for that one moment of wrong judgement, the thought that I was too young to know any better brings me very little comfort.

I just stood there, a simple image of the senseless idiot that I was soon to become, not moving a muscle, barely breathing. I didn't hear the howl again. Instead a rustling of leaves in the nearby bush caught my attention. It couldn't be the wind, not on such a still, unstirring night.

I remember seeing a large amount of matted grey fur, two ferociously burning eyes, with balls of raging fire as pupils, two rows of yellow snarling teeth, set in wide, slavering jaws. I heard the snarling, I can still remember it with painful clearness, as the hideous creature emerged from behind the bush and began to come towards me, hackles raised, its sharp, steely claws scraping on the concrete ground of the back yard. The two fiery eyes met my own for a fraction of a second, before the monstrous animal pounced, and the next thing I felt was a burning pain in my right shoulder, and the trickle of warm blood seeping down to my elbow. My head hit the concrete as I sank to my knees in pain and fear.

I must have screamed. Half unconscious, but awake enough to feel the agony that was pulsing through my arm, my petrified wails of pain and anguish, accompanied with the snaps and growls of the wolf, must have carried to the upstairs bedroom of my parents, because suddenly they were down beside me. The wolf had disappeared. Someone's arms were round me, carrying me inside. I remember nothing more. Not clearly, I can still hear murmuring voices, I can still remember people touching my arm, assessing the wound, but it has become a blur. Images of that time pass through my head, but in no logical order, with no sense to them.

For many weeks I lay in my bed. I felt sickly, my head and limbs ached horribly. The wound was by now burning through my shoulder, causing me unbearable pain. The slightest movement would result in a piercing throb shooting down my arm, as if someone had plunged a white-hot dagger into my flesh. And inside I felt ill, and weak. I felt as if some terrible monster had been let loose inside me, and was trying to scratch its way out, fighting tooth and claw to escape, but forever encaged inside the damaged image of a small, scared boy. Inside of me.

Someone came to see me. A healer, I learned afterwards. I didn't go to hospital myself. My father didn't want me to. He wished to have me in the house where he could be with me all the time. So the healer, who was also an old family friend, came to me. But there was nothing he could do, other than give me potions to numb the pain temporarily, and put new, clean, white bandages round the deep wound in an attempt to stop any fresh blood from escaping the ugly gash.

There was no cure. No remedy that could prevent me from becoming a werewolf myself. My father had known that, and had already broken the news as gently as he could to my mother, but she had nevertheless desperately wanted to believe that there was some way of healing me. She wasn't magical. She had been led into the magical world by stray chance, after falling in love with my father when they were younger. When she had afterwards learnt of his magic she had supported him in it, and had even endeavoured to comprehend the world in which he so clearly belonged, but had never quite fully understood the necessary link it held to his life. Until I was bitten I believe she thought of it as little more than a hobby, a lucky gift that he happened to possess and that he could choose to use at his own will, to do whatever he wished, something that could only facilitate his life, because, after all, what could be easier than waving a magic wand to solve everything.

It must have come as a shock to her when the healer pronounced sadly that there was nothing more that he could do for me. It had almost as much impact on her as the wound had had on me. Although it had even then begun to heal, the scar it left was much, much more than the small white mark on my right shoulder. It was a deep, plaguing curse, one which would torture me for the rest of my life.

I grew up alone. I had no brothers or sisters, and no friends to speak of. There were too many dangers in mixing me with other children, especially those who were not magical and therefore could not even be warned of my illness, and my father would not take the risk.

As I grew up I learnt more and more about my problem, my sickness, my condition. These were the words some people have used to describe it, in pure kindness and respect for my feelings, but to me they are all meaningless. It is a curse. A bewitchment. An evil that has lived with me now for over thirty years.

I found out the name of the werewolf that bit me. My father was reluctant to tell me at first, but my mother, surprisingly, backed me up in my argument that I had the right to know, and in the end my father relented and gave me his name.

Fenrir Greyback.

After that even the mention of that name made my blood run cold, my insides churn unpleasantly, and my throat convulse in hatred and fear. Sometimes in dreams I could still see those blazing eyes, those foul jaws. I could still hear him howling, and I could still feel the sensation of the damp, coarse fur brushing my neck as those terrible yellow teeth plunged mercilessly into my shoulder.

The actual image of the werewolf, the childhood nightmare that haunted me for so long, has faded over time. Only to be replaced with other horrors that, though in many ways would be less frightening to a five-year-old child, cause me even greater anguish because they unearth deep, painful memories, some that I have long forgotten, until they appear in my dreams.

I wasn't even the intended target of the savage attack. It was my father who had offended the werewolf. I never found out how exactly. My father refused to tell me and even my mother agreed that it wasn't my place to know.

It was that night that he had chosen to take his revenge, and I had been there. Standing there in front of my home as if I were waiting for him. As if I had been welcoming him with open arms. His task, his means of taking out his revenge, had been made so easy, thanks to me.

And so now at home I was alone. My parents were there for me as much as possible, but their relationship with each other had become complicated and difficult, and in turn it caused a strain between their relationship with me. They blamed themselves for what I had experienced, I could tell. My father because he had enraged the werewolf in the first place, and my mother because she felt she should have been more aware of where I was on the night I was attacked.

I blamed myself. I still do. Even at such a young age I'd demonstrated what a fool I could be. I vowed that I would never be so stupid ever again, not realising how hard this vow would be to keep.

And as over the next few years my mother and father grew apart, the only thing holding them together was the guilt that they felt towards me. If, at any time, they showed signs of going their separate ways, of parting from each other, it took only my transformation at the next full moon to remind them that I needed them. Both of them.

I should have felt happy that they cared so much for me, but instead I felt as if I was the cause of their unhappiness. Late at night, when I lay in bed, I often heard the rows between them, as their voices carried up through a crack in the loose floorboards of my bedroom. I would lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, with my hand over my ears, trying to block out the heated, hurtful words that the two of them exchanged night after night and try as hard as I could to fall asleep. But even in sleep I could find little comfort. My dreams held terrible and frightening pictures, of eyes, teeth, and claws and after I'd drifted off I would be tossed from nightmare to nightmare, twisting and turning as I slept, until I finally woke, hands clenched, drenched in sweat, trying to shake the disturbing images from my troubled mind.

In those days my transformations were the most terrible moments of my life. In the days that followed them sometimes I could barely walk from the cuts and bruises that I'd inflicted upon my own body, when my mind had lost all sane thoughts and the monster residing inside me had been unleashed. My mother would be there with comfort and kindness, staying beside me as I wearily lay in my bed, or on the worn out sofa in the living room, recovering. And my father would use his magic to heal the more superficial wounds as best he could.

He would often tell me stories about the wizarding world, in an effort to make me forget my worries. He told me about famous wizards and witches of the past and present, and about his own time learning at school, because he had been to Hogwarts when he was younger. I would listen, enthralled and captivated by the tales that he told me.

But under the fascinated exterior I felt an awful black hole, a great hollow emptiness that gnawed away inside of me. I knew I could never go to Hogwarts myself. It wasn't even a possibility. My father never voiced this fact. He knew that I knew it anyway and that hearing it from him would hurt all the more. But I'd heard him talk about the dangers of werewolves, and the way that they were ostracized from human society, and I knew that I was dangerous. I wished more than anything else that I could be part of his world. But I knew I couldn't. Not really.

My mind was unhappy. My body was damaged. And my soul was tainted. Stained with ugly black scar, which represented the foul creature forever present inside me.

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Next chapters won't be so dark. Please read and review x


	2. A Letter and A New Life

OK i forgot to put this bit in the first chapter so here it is:

Disclaimer: Fairly obvious that this isnt mine i think. all characters and places mentioned belong to JK Rowling.

Summary: Remus Lupin Reflects sadly on his past, remembering the times when he was so much happier

**a/n** : speacial thanks to The Missing Marauder, my first ever reviewer.

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I drew all the comfort I could from listening to my fathers' stories. If I couldn't go to Hogwarts myself then hearing about it from him was the next best thing. I heard about his old friends, his old teachers, his different classes, the rivalries between the different houses, the excitement that always seemed to be present in the atmosphere of the school. I never voiced the deep feeling of longing that welled up in my chest. The desire to experience it for myself.

My mother didn't think it was good for me. She believed I had become too withdrawn into myself and hearing these tales would only make me worse. She suggested to my father that I go to an ordinary Muggle school, to try and bring me out of my shell.

My father was not convinced of its uses, or its values. And he was very much aware of the perils that my condition held towards other children, both non magical and otherwise. I could endanger lives, he said. He refused point blank at first, without even trying to listen to reason, but my mother kept on at him. She said I needed an education, even if it were non magical. And she argued that I needed friends.

I did. I'd always wanted to have real friends, like my father described having when he had been at school. Someone to play with, somebody to talk to. I longed to go out, to play in the park like I sometimes saw the neighbours' children do when I looked out of my bedroom window. I always saw them swinging high on the swings, shrieking wildly as they went on the roundabout, or else huddled together in little groups, giggling at each other's jokes and teasing each other fondly.

Unfortunately it didn't work out well at all. My father relented in the end and my parents sent me to the nearby Muggle junior school, but I didn't fit in. The children made fun of me. For my clothes, for what I looked like, and even for the way I spoke. I had not realised before then that my way of speaking differed considerably from the other children in the neighbourhood. They had never heard anything like it before, and to them, it was something to be mocked. I was different, and they refused to accept me as one of them.

I became angry and frustrated with the other children, and when I had a bout of accidental magic in one of my lessons, and managed to turn the piece of chalk my teacher was holding into a heavy and extremely sharp butchers knife, an act with sent my classmates into screams of terror, and resulted in the suspension of my teacher, my father removed me from the school.

I was not bothered that I could not return to the muggle school, but the incident made my disappointment at not being able to go to Hogwarts even greater than before. It had proved that I was magical. It meant that but for that one act of foolishness in my youth and I could have been a wizard. Maybe even become a great warlock like those my father had always told me about, those who were respected by the entire wizarding community. And now I couldn't even try.

My eleventh birthday passed. And, realising that the time when normal magical children of eleven receive they're first Hogwarts letters would soon be approaching; I fell into a sort of gloomy despair. My father, worried, continued to tell me of his own time at the school, in an attempt to cheer me up, but my mother soon put a stop to that, following on from her old argument that it couldn't be doing me any good.

So the rows between them continued, and my father began to speak to me less and less, and my awful transformations continued to make my life misery. If it hadn't been for the actions of an extremely powerful and also very kind wizard, who, I later came to realize, was even more unique than I had already been told, I might have fallen into an even deeper well of depression.

It was a clear sunny morning at the end of June. The grass was slightly moist from the dew that had settled upon it that night, and I could see the whole ground sparkling as I looked out of my window. The pretty sight of it made my heart feel lighter than it had in weeks and I was smiling cheerfully as I came downstairs for breakfast.

I'll never forget the sight of the handsome tawny owl, which soared in through the open window and dropped a thick yellow envelope onto my lap. It wasn't our owl. Our own family pet was by that time so old that it probably wouldn't have managed to fly to the end of our garden and back.

I didn't know any other magical families who would be writing to me. Which meant that there had to have been a mistake.

I reached down and turned the letter over in my lap. It was addressed to me. Then, in amazement, I turned it back over, unable to believe that what I thought I'd glimpsed on the back was real.

It was. Stamped on the back of the envelope was a large, red, waxy seal, and as I held it up to my eyes I could make out a crest. I'd seen it before; my father had shown it to me several times. It was the Hogwarts coat of arms.

The room had gone silent, my parents regarding me with watchful eyes. Even the birds outside seemed to cease their singing for a moment, and I could hear my own heart as it thumped loudly under my ribs.

I opened the envelope, my fingers trembling so hard that I nearly dropped it. As I opened it the letter fell out and onto the floor. With shaking hands I bent to pick it up and fumbled to unfold the thick parchment.

It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc. Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Lupin  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later then July 31st.

Yours, sincererly  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

I looked up; my eyes were suddenly sparkling with tears of joy, and wordlessly handed it to my father. He took it silently and read it. Then his gaze fell back on me. I looked up at him nervously, the joy slipping from my face under his serious stare. My heart was suddenly in my mouth.

He shook his head sadly; his eyes were sympathetic, but his mouth firmly set. "You know I can't let you go," he said quietly.

I looked at him pleadingly but he merely continued to shake his head. "It's too dangerous," he said softly. "And you of all people know that."

I did. I felt different tears spring to my eyes, replacing the happy ones that had been present just moments before.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

Dejected, and bitterly disappointed, I let the empty envelope I was still holding slip to the floor, the tears now spilling down my cheeks. I couldn't believe how close I had been; my hopes had risen to an impossible height, only to be torn down again almost immediately. My father was right, but that didn't make his words any easier to bear as I returned upstairs to my bedroom.

After a while I heard yet again raised voices downstairs. I was about to turn over into my usual position with my hands over my ears when I heard my own name mentioned. Curious, I put my ear to the crack in the floorboards and as I listened I could hear my mothers voice floating up to me, in raised tones.

"You know how much he's wanted to go to that school, John, you know that!" she was saying. "You tell him stories, make him long for something we all thought was impossible and when he finally gets the chance he's always dreamed of you- you do this."

My father's reply was not heated, merely stated with calmness.

"There's nothing in the world I'd like more than to let him go," he said. "I know how much he'd enjoy it, and how much he'd get out of it." I heard a small noise as my mother made to interrupt, but he didn't let her.

"But I cant," he said. "It's too dangerous. Imagine if he bit someone, another student for example, during one of his transformations. Would you honestly wish that upon someone else's child?"

My mother answered at once. "Of course not," she retorted. "I wouldn't wish that nightmare on anyone, but the headmaster must have thought of that or he would not have sent the letter. From what you've told me about this Dumbledore he does not sound like the sort of man to take something like this lightly, and I would think he has given it some consideration."

I heard my father sigh. She continued. "Perhaps you should contact him, if you're so worried," she said.

I felt my jaw drop. Whenever my father had spoken of Dumbledore it had always been with awe and admiration. I'd heard of the wizards he'd fought, and the wisdom he possessed, the good he'd brought to Hogwarts upon becoming headmaster. The mere thought of approaching him with something this unimportant seemed laughable. But to my great surprise my fathers grunted in response, before saying, "Well, maybe I will."

No more was said. It took me a long while to go to sleep that night. I did not wish to get my hopes up again, but now I believed that there was perhaps the smallest ray of light at the end of the dark tunnel that had until then been stretching before me.

The next day my father contacted his old Professor, and at the end of the week he went out and disappeared for the whole day, without saying where he was going. On his return I could tell from his expression that he bore good news, and looked at him enquiringly as he sat down opposite me at the kitchen table.

Apparently the headmaster had met with him at his request, and had talked about my acceptance to the school. "He is coming here at the weekend to talk to you personally," my father finished, watching my face carefully for my reaction.

Dumbledore, possibly the greatest wizard to ever live, was coming to talk to me in person. At the time I believe my mouth fell open and my eyes widened in amazement. I looked at my father. He smiled at me. I could barely speak.

"Thank you," I said. Just two simple words, but the look on his face told me that he understood just what this meant to me.

That Saturday, after Professor Dumbledore's arrival at our house, I entered my own sitting room with trepidation. Professor Dumbledore was seated in the large faded armchair by the fireplace, my father standing beside him. As I entered the room my father left it, nodding at me as he made his exit.

"Come and sit down Remus." Dumbledores voice was kindly. I nervously did as I was told, trying to take in the wizard's appearance without being so rude as to stare. Two twinkling blue eyes, behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, were set it the wise, lined face, which was framed with a considerable amount of silver grey hair. His mouth was smiling, and this too was partially hidden behind his long silvery beard.

I cautiously sat down on the sofa opposite him. He told me of the conversation he had had with my father, the concerns that had been put forward, and the reasons for the choices he had made. He told me he believed that every young wizard should have the chance to learn and improve his magic. He then asked me if I wanted to come to Hogwarts.

The question confused me slightly, and judging by the ever-present twinkle in Dumbledores eyes, I believed he had been informed just how much I wanted to go to the school, and merely wanted to see the reaction for himself. All I could do at the time was nod, still overawed by the great wizard I had heard so much about, who was sitting in the oldest armchair opposite me.

He chuckled, reading my expression, and then asked another question. "What do you know about the magical world?" he asked.

In that moment I forgot my shyness. I recounted many of the things my father had told me about, not everything, as it would have taken a great deal to much time, but I told him some of the things I knew about, some of the famous witches and wizards, and what I had heard about Hogwarts. I only stopped speaking when I noticed my father standing beside me. I looked up, startled. I had not seen him re-enter the room. I felt my nervousness return to me, and contented myself with smiling again apprehensively.

Dumbledore chuckled again. "You have a fine son John," he complimented. "You should be proud of him."

I felt myself blush under my father's vaguely proud stare, and then looked hopefully at Dumbledore.

"Does this mean I can come to Hogwarts?" I asked.

"It certainly does," he replied, eyes twinkling as madly as ever. If I had not been so deeply in awe of him I would have hugged him. I beamed instead.

"Of course, certain precautions will have to be taken," he continued, his face becoming serious for a minute. "There are many risks, and I will have to ask you, Remus, to follow the rules that I will set down for you, to ensure not only other's safety, but yours as well."

I nodded rapturously, not even thinking at the time just how difficult following the rules might prove, once I was at Hogwarts and surrounded by young wizards far more daring and adventurous than myself.

The headmaster's smile reappeared on his face. He nodded to me, shook hands with my father and left us.

For the next few nights I found it very hard to sleep, from sheer excitement, which made a refreshing change from all the nights I had lain awake in terror or unhappiness. Now that I was going to Hogwarts everything seemed to be going right, and even my transformations became slightly more bearable than they had been before.

Shortly before term started parents took me to Diagon alley to get my supplies for the year. I had been there only once before in my life, when I was very small, but even then I had sensed the buzz of happiness and excitement that the different magical shops and stalls appeared to generate.

Now, I walked down the crowded cobbled street, looking first right, then left, taking in all the different windows, and knowing that I was one of the excited young wizards going to buy school equipment for the first time, someone I never thought I would have the opportunity to be.

Not all my equipment was new. I had inherited my dads old cauldron and potions scales, and also most of his old robes for daily wear, because our family did not have a great deal of money, and we were trying to save as much as possible. I did not mind then, not realising what old or tattered robes could mean for a young wizard in the eyes of wealthier families.

My books were also second hand, but I got a brand new pair of dragon hide gloves and a new wizard hat, my potions ingredients and the thing I'd wanted forever, a wand.

The man selling the wands made me decidedly uncomfortable, but my father told me it was simply his way of dealing with customers and when we immerged from the shop I was holding a brand new mahogany wand. I finally felt as if I were a real wizard.

I crossed off the days impatiently on my calendar after that, counting down to the day when I would board the Hogwarts express on platform 9 ¾ and finally be on my way to Hogwarts.

I believe I read for most of the journey. After my parents had dropped me off at the station, and stood waving until the train had pulled away from the platform, I pulled one of my new books out of my bag and began to read. I was so absorbed in the book that I barely noticed the countryside flashing by outside the window. I didn't notice the students who passed by the doors of my compartment, shouting and laughing with one another, nor did I hear the lady with the food trolley open the door, and it wasn't until she asked me rather loudly if I wanted anything, (an offer which I refused, my mother having given me something to eat on the train anyway) that I heard her. I remained alone in my compartment, but for the first time in my life I felt a sense of belonging, and it did not particularly bother me that I had no company.

When I noticed it getting darker outside I changed into my black school robes, and wondered impatiently how long it would be until we arrived at Hogsmead station.

I didn't have to wait long. Within the next fifteen minutes the train had arrived, everyone had spilled onto the platform, and all the first years were called by an enormous man named Hagrid, who took us to the edge of a lake, and we proceeded to make our way by boat across the water.

I sat in the boat with a large, lumpy boy with an extremely round face, and two other boys who I vaguely remembered seeing on the platform at Kings Cross station when my parents dropped me off. They clearly were from wizarding families, and as they both sat in the back of the boat, I could tell immediately they were the mischievous type, after hearing some of the jokes and tricks they were swapping and talking about. I remained in the front of the boat, squashed up against the side, because the large boy was taking up rather a lot of room. I ceased to notice this, however, when the boats pulled round a cliff face, and we got our first glimpse of the castle. There were many gasps around me, and I could tell that I was not the only one awed by such a magnificent sight.

Once the boats had pulled in, and we all trooped up to the great doors of the castle, we were met by a stern faced witch, who told us we were to be sorted into houses shortly.

I knew how this was done, because my father had told me about the sorting hat, but judging by the worried murmurs and whispers, there were many people who didn't know. Behind me I heard the two boys who had been in the back of the boat telling a rather scared, mousy looking boy that he would have to fight off an eight eyed spider using only our wand and, if he was lucky, a piece of old rope, and if he didn't manage to kill it within three minutes he wouldn't be in any house at all.

It must have been a huge relief to him, and many other children who had been told similar stories, when our long line was led through the middle of the great hall, surrounded by whispers, and the stern looking witch explained briefly what the sorting consisted of, and we were called up one by one to try on the hat.

I didn't take in many of the houses people were sorted into, though I noticed that one of the rascals who had been in the back of the boat, as well as the lumpy boy, were both sorted into Gryffindor.

When my name was called I walked fearfully up to the three legged stool, sat down, and caught a glimpse of about a thousand faces staring up at me, before the hat was placed on my head, and my world went black as it fell over my eyes.


	3. Three New Friends

Disclaimer: all characters and places mentioned belong to JKRowling.

Summary: Remus Lupin reflects on his past, trying to draw comofrt from happy memories, which are bittersweet now he is so alone.

Please read and reveiw.

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"Let me see," I heard a voice say, "Rather tricky this one, intelligent, certainly, but with a darker past, oh dear me yes. You have been deeply troubled, I see."

At this I felt my whole body tense. If this hat could se everything that meant it knew what I was. I knew that the teachers at the school knew about my problem, but Dumbledore had assured me that the knowledge would be kept from the other students. I did not wish to be shunned by the other children because they knew about me. I felt a knot of fear build in my stomach, which was immediately loosened by the hats' next words,

"Relax," it said. "No secrets regarding students are ever passed from me to anyone my boy, you have no reason to fear." There was a brief pause, before the hat said, "And I think, on the whole, you'd be best off in Gryffindor!"

I felt my stomach relax completely, as the last word was shouted to the entire hall. I was in the same house as my father. He would be proud of me. My legs felt like jelly as I got off the stool and walked to the Gryffindor house table, taking my place opposite the large, round-faced boy who had been sorted not long before me.

Now that the initial fear was over, I found it much easier and much more enjoyable to watch the remaining students sorted into houses. Peter, the scared looking boy, now looking very slightly happier at the news that no spiders were involved in the process, was sorted into Gryffindor, and was immediately followed there by the second mischievous boy who had been in the back of the boat, whose name I discovered was James.

I noticed that the hat sat a long while on Peter's head before making it's decision, whereas it wasn't on James's long enough to fully cover his eyes. Both boys joined the house table, James grinning triumphantly at his friend who had already been sorted, before sitting down beside him, and Peter sliding nervously into the seat opposite them. James winked at the boy next to him before turning to Peter and saying, "Got you scared didn't we?"

As Peter grinned uneasily, clearly unsure what to make of the two grinning faces opposite him, I realised that the sorting had just finished, and that mountains of food had suddenly appeared on the plates in front of us. Everyone apparently ravenous, we all started tucking in.

I didn't know of course, that James, Peter and the other boy, whose name I did not at that point know, were to become my very first and very best friends. I couldn't possibly know that then. Peter was listening in a sort of awed silence as the other two talked; they occasionally asked him a question but otherwise they just spoke with each other, in a self assured, and composed sort of way. I was not close enough to hear what they were saying, but I suspected that every word that left their mouths was spoken boldly, and without hesitation.

I did not believe at that point that two such confident young boys would want to be friends with me.

At one point James looked up from his conversation and, glancing along the row, seemed to grin at me with a slightly cheeky and appreciative look in his eyes. About to smile back, I realised that his eyes were not quite directed at me, and, turning very slightly to my left, I noticed an extremely pretty and vivacious red headed girl, sitting next to me. She was talking animatedly with some other girls, and seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was attracting more than one admiring look. James was clearly not the only one to have noticed her.

Thankfully avoiding making a fool of myself by grinning back at him, I turned away and addressed instead the only other Gryffindor boy to have just been sorted.

He introduced himself as Davey Gudgeon, and, between mouthfuls of food, told me that his mother was a witch, but his father was non-magical, and boasted that he'd always known he would come to Hogwarts, in spite of his part Muggle heritage, because at three years old he had picked up his fathers wand and managed to set his whole house on fire.

I had a feeling that this story was exaggerated, but not wanting to appear doubtful in case I offended him, I just nodded in a comprehending sort of way, and, in turn, told him how my father had been to Hogwarts, and how I had always wanted to come too, but had been afraid that I wouldn't be able to, leaving out, of course, the details of my condition and problem, and merely telling him about my parents and certain aspects of my life before I had received my letter.

Davey did not seem particularly interested in what I was saying, and his attention waned considerably after the appearance of the desserts not very long after. His conversation dwindled to grunts and nods, and I was fast running out of things to say, so after a bit, while Davey helped himself to a fourth helping of chocolate cake, I, to full to manage anymore, simply stared around the hall, the conversation around me becoming muddled and merging into a sort of hum as I grew sleepier and sleepier.

When the feast was over, and the prefects led us up to our common rooms, I did not even notice the dormitory that was to be my home for the next seven years. I climbed into bed and was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

It took me while to remember where I was the next morning, and when I did, half afraid that coming to Hogwarts had all been a dream, I needed to sit up quickly and take in my surroundings.

Peter were still snoring peacefully in his four-poster bed, but James and his friend were sitting up talking, and Davey, already dressed and sitting on the edge of his bed, was trying rather unsuccessfully to listen to their conversation without appearing interested. I couldn't help noticing that they were very deliberately ignoring him.

I caught James's eye. He grinned at me cheerfully, his hair sticking up at odd angles, and ran his hand through it to make it even messier before speaking.

"Hi," he said. "I'm James, this is Sirius." He gestured to the boy in the bed next to him, who nodded to me with a smile. They didn't bother introducing Davey, so I gathered that they had not got off to a very good start.

"Well, don't you have a tongue?" Sirius asked impatiently. Looking sheepish I introduced myself hurriedly. They both grinned again.

"We'd better all get up or we'll be late for breakfast," Sirius said, stretching his arms above his head.

James nodded, then chucked his pillow at the lump that was Peter, still buried under the blankets in his bed. "Oy get up, lazy," he said. Peter's face wore a rather bemused expression as his head immerged from under the covers, his hair rumpled and his eyes screwed up against the light that was now pouring in through the large windows.

The three boys got dressed with surprising speed, and I was still trying to find my socks when Peter followed James and Sirius out of the dormitory, tucking his shirt in frantically as he tried to keep up with them.

"See you later," James said to me. I nodded rather shyly and turned to see if Davey would wait for me, but he lumbered after the others.

Even then I wasn't particularly bothered at being on my own. I found my socks at last, and made my way to the Great hall for breakfast. Our first lesson, I found out, was to be Transfiguration, a subject I knew my father had particularly enjoyed, and one I was looking forward to learning about. The teacher was the stern witch who had been in charge of the sorting; Professor McGonagall.

I enjoyed the lesson immensely, even though it was much harder than I'd expected, and I also enjoyed the other lessons that we had that day. And in the weeks to come I found I was quite good at most subjects, although an exception was potions. The teacher, an extremely plump man named Professor Slughorn, who bore an uncanny resemblance to a walrus, whiskers included, despaired of me. I wasn't the only one by far. Davey and Peter were also among those who struggled, and although the Professor wasn't at all harsh with any of us, he seemed to give up on me after a bit, no doubt thinking that I was a lost cause.

I soon discovered that he was a teacher of great favouritism. He took quite a shine to both Sirius and James, who, in spite of their prankster ways, were extremely bright, but his two special favourites in our class were Lily, the girl who James had been eyeing up at the very first feast of the year, and a greasy haired slime ball named Severus Snape, who, though was exceedingly unpopular, was without question the best potion maker in the class.

In the first few weeks James and Sirius always sat next to each other, and Peter generally took the desk behind them, accompanied by Davey and I had no one to sit next to in class.

The fact that I was alone did not bother me in most lessons, as I understood the majority of what the teachers were saying, and didn't need a great deal of help, but in potions it wouldn't have been a bad thing to have someone next to me, who could point out where I was going wrong. The only other person in the entire class to sometimes have a vacant spot beside him was Snape, who took an automatic dislike to all the Gryffindor boys and sneered at me derisively the only time I sat down next to him in potions, after Slughorn suggested he might be able to be of some assistance, and was so scornful and patronizing with my lack of skill that I felt it had gone better when I was on my own.

In between classes I spent most of the time in the library. I read various books that interested me, trying to broaden my knowledge of the different subjects. For the first month or so I was completely on my own, left to my own solitary devices, but after a few weeks I was joined by Davey, who had been given the slip by the other three boys in my dormitory.

I could see why. Unlike Peter, who simply followed James and Sirius around, copying them, in an attempt to keep up with everything they did, which, though admittedly must have been slightly annoying for them, could also have been very flattering, Davey tried to give the illusion that he was better than everyone else. He would boast, in an effort to impress and when he saw that he was impressing nobody, his boasting would turn to jealousy, and he would simply insult people in an attempt to make others laugh. Without a great deal of success.

So the other three, or more likely other two, with Peter just agreeing with them as always, no longer let him hang around with them. And he came to me instead. He moved away from Peter in class and came to sit in the empty seat next to me. He would also sit with me in the library, munching on chocolate, sweets and other various goodies, not studying, merely whispering meanly about the three boys in my ear.

I did not agree with what he said about them, but I did not wish to argue. I had wanted friends, and Davey was the nearest thing to a friend I had ever had, and the only person in the school who showed any real interest in wanting to know me, even though I knew deep down that it was only due to his lack of success with the others, and that I was very much a last resort.

I could not feel the same way about the others as he did. I admired James and Sirius greatly, and although I had little desire I follow them everywhere in the senseless way that Peter appeared to, I felt, in my heart, that I would like to get to know them better.

But as it was, for the time being at any rate, I was stuck with Davey. And he became more irritating as time went by. He was surprisingly a very daring character, which was no doubt that reason that the sorting hat had placed him in Gryffindor, but it was not the kind of spirited boldness that created the feeling of admiration that revolved so clearly around Sirius and James, who were fast becoming recognized as the school trouble makers. A title that brought with it immense popularity and admiration. I could see why someone like Davey would be jealous of them.

I could not blame the others for ditching him, but I did wish that he had not latched himself onto me.

He said that we were friends. But he took little interest in me other than having me as someone to be with when others were around, so that he didn't appear all by himself. I'm sure that he knew almost nothing about me, and I was disappointed and dispirited, because I had always believed that having friends meant having someone who knew you, and who liked you, who would look out for you, and not someone who just stayed with you because they could find no one better.

He didn't notice for instance, when I disappeared off on the night of every full moon, nor when I paid visits to the hospital wing, something I did regularly so as to have the nasty, self-inflicted cuts and injuries healed. Although relieved I did not have to make up excuses or lie to him, it was not at all how I had imagined having friends would be. But I did not feel that I was in I good position to pick and choose. And my mother, in recent letters, had been asking if I had made any friends. I could tell from the tone of writing that she was anxious and concerned for my well-being, therefore in my next letter home I assured her that I had indeed made a friend, whose name was Davey.

It may have gone on forever, me not being frank enough to tell him to "get lost", which I'm sure is what the others had done, had I not got on the wrong side of two large Slytherin second years, about three months into my first term at Hogwarts.

I had just been to the hospital wing, having been there to heal several large welts on my left knee, which were the result of my most recent transformation, and not looking where I was headed, I ran smack into one of them. Neither one of them was pleasant to look at, and judging be his nasty expression, the one I'd run into was not at all pleased about nearly being mown down an ignorant, and apparently blind, first year.

Their reaction was nasty; they first asked why I could not look where I was going, then, after realising that I was in Gryffindor, made several unkind cracks at the poor state of my robes, and asked if I were a Mudblood, an extremely offensive term used to describe muggle-borns. I could not see what good could come of telling them that I was actually a half blood, and although I noticed that neither had pulled out their wands, I could see it would take little more than a swing from one of their balled fists to send me flying. Which is what happened. It was not a particularly hard blow, and in previous years I had already experienced far worse pain, but it was enough to throw me off balance, and I landed in an unceremonious heap on the floor.

James, Sirius and Peter happened to be coming along the corridor at that moment, James and Sirius in front as usual, with Peter tagging along behind, and, seeing what was happening, they at once faced the other two, and Sirius and James pulled out their wands.

James glared at the two boys with an ugly look on his face. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size? If you can find anyone that is," he added, casting a critical eye over the boys' bulky forms. Both he and Sirius had their wands pointing at them, and I saw a worried look pass between the two Slytherins. James and Sirius, in spite of only being in their first year, had already built up quite a reputation for being extremely good at jinxes, and the other boys fists would be of no use to them. Muttering crossly, they turned and retreated down the corridor.

By this time I had got to my feet, and was dusting the dirt off my rather worn out robes. James turned to me with raised eyebrows. "You all right?" he asked.

I nodded nervously. "They're greasy gits," Sirius said darkly. "And there pals of Snape too. He gets them to do all kinds of dirty work for him." He looked at me with a slightly bemused expression.

"What happened?" he asked curiously

"Oh, nothing," I said quickly, not wanting them to know the whole embarrassing story. "Thanks," I added. "For –you know." I waved my hand awkwardly. The two boys shrugged. "Don't mention it," said Sirius.

"Anyway, I'd better go, I said I'd meet Davey before class," I said hurriedly. As I turned away, I saw a swift incredulous look pass between the two, and James said. "Do you actually like him?"

My honest answer would have had to have been no, but fearing that if I said this then Davey would get to know, I contented myself to shrugging my shoulders.

"We don't," Sirius said bluntly. "Annoying idiot, always trying to make out he's better than everyone else." James nodded in agreement and Peter tittered shrilly.

I looked away, embarrassed. "I don't really like him," I admitted, "And he's only hanging around with me because you don't want him anymore."

To my surprise they looked a bit guilty. It wasn't the reaction I had been expecting. I'd been waiting for them to laugh at my feebleness at not being able to get rid of him as efficiently as they had. Then James spoke.

"Look, if you want to come with us sometimes instead then that's fine with us," he said. "We didn't mean for him to attach himself to you, we just wanted to get him out of our hair, you know."

I nodded, feeling considerably happier, but also feeling that I wouldn't dare stay too much around them for fear of bothering them. I felt that I was meek, and feeble, and they were confident and daring. There was nothing about me that could really interest them, and I did not want them to feel like they had to take notice of me out of sheer pity.

At first it was as I'd thought, and I didn't dare to approach them, choosing to stay with Davey instead, but after a few weeks of occasional nods and smiles to one another, a bond seemed to grow between the other three boys and myself, and I could tell that they'd begun to accept me as one of them. We gradually were together more and more, until one day James told me to switch seats in class and sit in the now vacant spot next to Peter. This seemed to cement the friendship, and I no longer felt awkward about keeping company with them, so we began to stay together all the time.

I was able to write to my mother again, this time telling her I had made three new friends, that all was going well, and I was doing fine.

Her reply was instant and relieved. I don't think she had ever really been reassured by the rather feeble description that I'd given of my so-called friendship with Davey, and she was thankful that I at last seemed to be settling in properly.

The holidays were fast approaching and, like me, my three new friends were returning home for Christmas. On the last day of term when we boarded the train to go home, my inside feeling was one of delight, for I realised that when the new term came, I would not be returning to classes with the feeling that I had no real friends, nor to the dread of facing each day with only Davey to whisper poisonous or snide remarks in my ear.

I would instead be returning to three great friends. I didn't know at the time just what a great friendship it would become, but at the time I was happy to know that I had people who genuinely liked me and who were really there for me.


	4. Truths, Trees, and Trouble

Disclainer: All characters and places mentioned belong to JK Rowling.

Summary: Remus looks back on his past, remembering happier times.

* * *

The next seven years were to hold some of the most enjoyable, the most exciting, and the most adventurous times of my life, now that I had friends.

We were constantly there for each other, and I realised something I had never had in my acquaintance with Davey. We could confide in each other. And as we got closer we started to know almost everything about each other. Everything from Peter's small, and admittedly rather trivial problems about schoolwork, to James's interest in a certain Lily Evans, which I soon realised was more than just a passing crush, as I had first thought when I saw him looking at her on our first night. His attempts to gain her attention and admiration caused us great amusement, but we nevertheless supported him, if a little humorously, in his efforts.

On top of that, we had an immense amount of fun; I'd discovered that James and Sirius were by far the most entertaining people I had ever met. The jokes they had, the tricks they played, although were often at other peoples expense, were undoubtedly hilarious, and Peter and I were always included as part of them.

Then there was the delight of sneaking out at night. James had showed us his invisibility cloak, and all four of us would spend more nights out of our beds than we did in them, exploring the castle, the grounds, finding secret tunnels and passageways. The trouble that we may have got into without the cloak was, at the time, laughable. We soon lost count of the number of times we managed to pull it over ourselves just before a caretaker or professor found us lurking in the dark, deserted corridors when we should have been in bed.

Of course, I see now how irresponsible we could be, even sneaking around the castle at night could be dangerous, and the things we got up to in our later years at Hogwarts sometimes makes me cringe today.

It has to be said that we got into quite enough trouble in the day without being caught out of bounds at night as well. There was not a week that passed when Sirius and James did not receive detention and more often than not they were joined by Peter and myself. But even when we were in trouble we would find things to laugh about and I felt that I had at last learnt the true definition of having friends.

But there was still the issue of the barrier between us. The barrier that only I could see, and that at the time the others knew nothing about. In spite of everything I'd learnt about them, everything they learnt about me, and all the fun we were having together, I could not bring myself to confess to them that I was a werewolf. I was desperately afraid that they would shun me, abandon me, if they knew about the monster I became every full moon, and which, I knew, was always trapped inside my soul.

So I tried to conceal it completely from them. It wasn't easy, and it soon proved impossible to hide the fact that I disappeared once every month. They were both less ignorant, and more interested in me than Davey had been, and so they couldn't fail to remark on my frequent disappearances.

I thought up various excuses, being as inventive as possible, telling them that my mother was ill, and I had to go home, and that my grandmother had died, but gradually they became more and more suspicious. It appeared that our friendship would be challenged whatever I decided to do. They knew that I was hiding something and I was scared it was only a matter of time before they either dropped me in exasperation of my apparent lack of trust in them, or found out the truth and refused to have anything more to do with me.

It seemed that there was no way I could win. There were times when I came close to telling them, when the words were on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn't do it. And in the end they began to find out the truth themselves.

8

The day they discovered the truth was in our first year, sometime in mid May I think, because the days were becoming increasingly longer, and the general mood around the school was one of interest and happiness. It was the morning after the full moon, and I had been having my habitual check up with the nurse, and was return to my dormitory from the hospital wing to get my books for class. I was on the brink of entering the room when I heard my friends' voices and paused at the door.

"I don't believe it," James was saying quietly.

"It makes sense though, doesn't it?" Sirius replied softly.

There was a pause, and then Peters voice piped up, "I don't get it, what does it mean?"

I heard the other two sigh in exasperation. "Do we really have to spell _everything_ out for you?" James said irritably. "He disappears on the night of every full moon, telling us he has to see family, or he isn't well, or some other made up excuse. He often returns with scars or bruises or cuts, which he tries to hide. And now we've found this-" his voice broke off, and Sirius continued.

"In short, he's a werewo-" his voice died as I suddenly opened the door of the dormitory.

All three faces turned towards me. Sirius dropped what he was holding as if it had burned him. It was a book that my father had given me for Christmas, entitled, _Coping with your condition, the Hardships of being a Werewolf_. I had not looked at it very much, feeling it was going a bit over the top to resort to a book with such a depressing title, when I was "coping" fine as it was, but I had brought it to school anyway, so as not to hurt his feelings. It seemed that my friends had taken advantage of my absence that morning and had looked through my belongings so as to try and find some clue to solving the mystery of my strange behaviour. And they had apparently found what they were looking for.

My heart was thumping as I looked at them. I had known this would come, I had just hoped it would not be for another long while.

James looked at me. He was the only one who could look me directly in the eye. "Were you ever going to tell us?" he inquired calmly.

Sirius regained his composure and spoke, rather angrily. "Yeah!" he said, "Aren't we your friends? Don't you trust us? Dear god, you know most of our secrets, perhaps even a little too much about some of them." He shot James a crafty look, and received a scowl in return.

I hung my head, a deep flush creeping up my cheeks. "I thought- I thought," I stammered.

"What? That we wouldn't want to be your friends anymore?" James asked disbelievingly. "I thought you knew us better than that," he added in disgust.

"You really thought that?" Sirius persisted. I nodded, and then raised my head in desperation. "You really don't care?" I burst out.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Of course we don't," he said, "Well, we care that you didn't tell us, and we care if you're getting hurt."

"Right," said James, "but we're not going to desert you because of what you are, if that's what you meant."

I could barely speak. I had honestly believed that the second my secret was out I would once again be friendless and alone, like I had felt my entire childhood, and yet I had clearly been mistaken. I opened my mouth, trying to express how grateful I was, but I didn't get a chance.

Sirius's eyes rolled again. "Honestly Remus, I though you had a brain. Sometimes I wonder if you have any more sense that the Idiot." Idiot was the term he used to describe Peter, meant more in fondness and affection than in unkindness. Peter, in any case, didn't take offence at it. He smiled in his normal nervous way at Sirius's words, his face telling me that he was in complete agreement.

James took a step towards me. I flinched, thinking he might do something, but he merely looked me straight in the eyes and asked, "There isn't anything else you've been keeping from us is there?"

"Yeah, like you're actually a mass murderer from the future, on the run from aurors, and you're afraid that if we find out we'll send you back to your own time and claim the thousand galleon reward for finding you?" Sirius suggested flippantly.

I smiled uncertainly, but the other two were laughing, and the tension in the room was broken in an instant.

And from that day the invisible barrier, I realised, had been removed. My friends had not deserted me, as I had feared they would. They had supported me in every possible way. And now they were able to cover for me, because they had not been the only ones getting suspicious of my frequent disappearances. Gradually people were beginning to notice. Even Davey had remarked on my latest disappearance at supper one night.

My friends had been thoroughly enjoying making stories to explain my absences, being far more inventive than I had been, and telling a different tale each time somebody asked.

On that particular occasion I had been present, but Sirius had cut in before I could answer Davey.

"Of course he wasn't here you useless moron," he said scathingly. "I thought everyone knew by now, he's under the pay of the minister for magic himself."

"And every month he has to go to top secret and highly confidential meetings." Broke in James.

"To prevent the wizarding world from total devastation and corruption," Sirius finished dramatically, upon which Davey snorted crossly, and returned to his treacle tart.

Thankfully people began to take it for granted that I was absent from school every four weeks. I am still sometimes incredulous that people failed to notice that it was every full moon, and thus deducing what this meant, but it was all to my advantage, and in all my time at Hogwarts, only two other students found out about me, the first of whom became one of my closest and dearest friends, and the second of whom, I'm afraid to say, became the exact opposite.

People were also interested in the Whomping Willow, the tree that had been planted to insure that I remained alone and undisturbed in the secret house, while I was transformed. No one except my three friends and myself knew of the hidden passage concealed behind its wildly flailing branches, and I was the only one to have ever set foot in it.

The tree caused a particular stir in our first few years, because it was new to the school and the grounds. I'm sure that over time it became just another mystery of the Hogwarts castle, something that everyone took for granted without question, but at the time, when nobody had seen it before, it caused a phenomenal amount of interest.

People invented different games; one consisted of trying to grab one of the flailing branches and staying aboard for as long as possible. Another was simply trying to get near enough to touch the trunk of the tree. People played around it frequently, in spite of various warnings given to us by the teachers.

It was in our second year, not long before the Christmas holidays, and Peter and I were sitting on the frozen steps leading up to the castle, watching several other students trying to dodge the branches and touch the trunk of the great tree. Sirius and James were both in detention, and without them we were rather short of things to do.

Lost in my own thoughts, I was only half seeing the scene before my eyes. The games had never particularly interested me; mainly because of the association the tree had with my transformations, and also because I knew that all you had to do was touch the knob on the trunk of the tree with a long stick, and it would become as still as stone.

Peter had always been intrigued by the games, but never brave enough to attempt them, or perhaps it was simply because he wanted to be like James and Sirius, who felt, as I did, that it was a pointless waste of time. As my mind wandered, Peters attention was fixed on the play of the other children, when he suddenly gave a horrified gasp.

Shaken out of my reverie I followed his petrified gaze, and saw a crowd of children had formed around a figure lying motionless on the ground. We got up and approached them nervously.

"Stupid idiot," someone was saying, "Should have ducked when that branch came swinging round, not grabbed hold of it."

"He was trying to impress," said another voice scornfully.

Someone moved in the crowd, and Peter and I got a clear view of the person on the ground. There was blood trickling from his face onto the frozen earth, and my heart leapt in shock as I recognized the round plump features. It was Davey Gudgeon.

Within the next few minutes, two teachers had arrived and he had been magically lifted onto a stretcher and transported to the hospital wing.

Later that day, we learnt that he would recover, but had been lucky not to lose his eye. What's more, he had gone home, and would not be returning to Hogwarts. His father, a muggle born, furious at how the magical world could have easily killed his only son, had removed him from the school, and had expressed angrily that his son would not be back.

Dumbledore, his blue eyes grave, and his expression unsmiling, expressly forbade anyone to go near the tree. And after what had happened, nobody really wanted to.

The accident cast a rather dull cloud over many people over the next few days, but it was soon forgotten. Davey had not been very popular, and accidents often happened at Hogwarts, it was not at all uncommon and wizard families knew that. It was far rarer for someone to be removed from the school because of them, but it was accepted that non magical parents would have different views on the matter.

I could not forget the incident quite so easily. I had never been a true friend of Davey's, I could see that, but I had always felt a slight amount of guilt for excluding him after my first term at school. He had been completely left out from our group and although I had never wanted him hanging around, I still felt slightly uncomfortable, because I knew what it was like to feel friendless. There was the added issue that if it had not been for me, the Whomping willow would have never been planted in the first place, and therefore the games would have never been played and no one would have been hurt at all.

My friends were brisk with my worries.

"It wasn't your fault," James said bracingly. "He was always showing off, if it hadn't been this then it would have been something else." Sirius and Peter agreed with him, but I still felt gloomy. To make matters worse, the full moon was once again approaching, and in spite of my friends support, I still dreaded the nights I spent alone in the desolate and lonely house at the end of the tunnel.

I didn't mean to say this thought out loud, but they were being so sympathetic I couldn't help it. After I said it I immediately wished I hadn't, because there was after all nothing more that they could do to help me, but Sirius and James shared a quick look before James spoke.

"We were worried about that," he said. "And we think we've found a solution. A way of being with you when you transform."

I stared at him blankly. I was used to their mad schemes, but I also thought that there was no way I was going to let my friends endanger their lives, just for me.

Sirius glanced at James and he continued. "We were talking about it the other day when we were in detention," he said. "And we reckon we've found a way of keeping you company, and staying safe at the same time. It'll take a while to do though."

I waited. Sirius grinned. "We can become animagi," he said.


	5. Marauder's Success

Disclaimer: Fairly obvious that this isnt mine i think. all characters and places mentioned belong to JK Rowling.

Summary: Remus Lupin Reflects sadly on his past, remembering the times when he was so much happier

* * *

My friend's announcement about what they planned to do had astonished me, and at first I showed a heavy reluctance to agree to it.

It wasn't that I didn't appreciate what they wanted to do, on the contrary I was touched that they were willing do go to such great lengths, just to help me; but I was still terribly afraid of endangering their lives. What if I bit one of them during my transformations? I knew that if I caused any one of them any harm I would not be able to live with myself afterwards.

They assured me that if they were animals then I could be of no danger to them. But I was still extremely worried. There were also dangers in the animagus transformation itself, which was one of the most advanced branches of magic in existence and I knew that one slip, one mistake, and it could go horribly wrong. We had studied animagi many a time in transfiguration and what we had heard about certain inept wizards or witches who had performed the transformation both illegally and inexpertly had quite honestly made me feel sick. Professor McGonagall had even shown us pictures of wizards who had sprouted several extra heads, and one particularly gruesome photo of a young witch who had managed to transform herself into a field mouse, but had not studied how to transform back again, and, unable to regain her human form when necessary, had been brutally attacked by a bald eagle, and had finally transformed back several minutes too late, falling from the eagle's claws and hitting the ground below. Several of the girls had let out horrified squeals as the image of her mangled body had been shown to the class, and I felt that they had every right to do so. It was one of the most unpleasant sights I have ever set my eyes on.

In my opinion this was enough to make anyone think twice before attempting to transform, but Sirius and James were bold, daring and irrepressible, and not in any way put off by these nasty stories. They told me not to worry about it, that they would be careful, and that they would study it very hard before trying anything stupid.

Although I was now feeling excited about the prospect myself, I made one last feeble protest, feeling that I should at least try and put up a fight, so as to make sure that they were deadly serious about going through with it. I reminded them that if anyone found out then they would be in very serious trouble, far more trouble than they had ever been in before, which was already a great deal more than the average second year student.

I'm positive that this, admittedly rather poor excuse, far from making them reconsider the idea, only egged them on. Getting into trouble was what they did, what they always had done. The challenge of keeping this a secret would probably be the aspect of it that they enjoyed most. And I realised that if they hadn't done it for me, they would have done it anyway, just for themselves. So, no longer reluctant, I agreed. I was stupid to do so, it was a mistake and I knew it from the start, but the thought of actually having company every dark transformation night drove all common sense out of my mind.

And so they began to study many different books on animagus transformations. And James wasn't wrong; it took a long time. They had to put in a tremendous amount of research before they could even begin to think about the actual transformation itself. But it was a huge comfort to know that, slowly but surely, they were getting somewhere, and that with each full moon that I spent alone, the time when I would have company came nearer and nearer.

It wasn't until our first term of our fifth year that they finally succeeded in changing into animals. And in the three years in which they were working towards it we still managed to get up to a great deal of mischief. On top of the continued sneaking around and playing jokes, we were growing up, not necessarily getting more mature, granted, but we were nonetheless getting older, and going through the different feelings and experiences of adolescence.

Sirius, over the years, became devastatingly handsome, and was without question the best looking of the four of us, although James was not too far behind him. And he attracted a considerable amount of attention from the other girls in our year. We lost count of the number of girlfriends he had over the years, and he had an almost infinite number of admirers, many of whom I believe he became quite bored with, and went to great lengths to try and avoid the throngs of adoring girls, ranging from the first year to the seventh, all of whom took to following him around between and after classes, something the rest of us took great pleasure in teasing him about.

We were struggling through a mountain of homework one evening, when he came back to the common room looking flushed and irritable.

"I'm not joking," he said furiously. "That is positively the last time I get followed into the boys bathroom."

"You said that last time," James said cheekily, looking up from his potions essay, which he had finished some time ago, and which was now covered in ink hearts, which occasionally enclosed the letters L.E. Recently all of his essays had been handed in this way. I was positive he did it on purpose, no doubt hoping that one of the teachers would comment on it, and that Lily would notice and somehow forget all the bad feelings she held towards him. So far, to his great annoyance, none of them had, although several had remarked on his lack of presentation skills and a couple had even deducted marks because of it. James did not appear too bothered about this however, and as Sirius replied crossly, he returned to his essay and drew several more hearts on the few inches of parchment that were not already covered by squiggles of black ink.

Sirius scowled at him. "I know you all think it's tremendously funny," he said, "But wait until it happens to you."

I raised a vaguely amused and slightly uncomfortable eyebrow. We both knew there was no danger of it happening to me. I deliberately shied away from any attention, too afraid that someone would find out my secret, and that it would be spread around the entire school. I was timid and slightly awkward in the face other people, and I had very few girlfriends in all my time at Hogwarts. The few who took an interest in me must have found me very difficult, and I refused to open up to them. I felt angry with myself afterwards, but it was how I was, and nothing I did seemed to be able to change it. Peter had similar problems, being small, plump and mousy, and very much overlooked by many people, who tended only to notice James and Sirius, the recognized leaders of our group.

So when Sirius told me to wait until it happened to me I had a feeling I could be waiting a long while. Peter, sitting in the chair next to me, smiled his normal awkward smile, clearly feeling the same way. James however, looked up, sat a little further back in his chair, put his feet on the table, and grinned.

"I'm not sure I'd be complaining myself."

Sirius's scowl deepened. He looked mutinous. "I think you would," he said darkly. "Especially if one actually tried to follow you into the cubicle."

At this James let out a mirthless snort of laughter. Next to me, Peter imitated him. I fought desperately to keep a straight face.

"So who was it this time?" James asked, once he was able to draw breath. "That first year who waved at you this morning at breakfast and then fell off the bench in embarrassment? Or was it that fourth year from Ravenclaw who looks like she's been hit in the nose by a bludger?"

I started laughing aswell. Sirius glared at us. "Oh shut up," he snapped. "You'll see what I mean one day, and then you won't find it nearly so funny. Especially you," he added, glowering at James. " I know several girls who've got their eye on you so you might want to watch it."

James just shrugged, and inked another "L.E" at the bottom of his parchment.

It was true James did receive his fair share of it all, being just as popular and almost as good-looking as Sirius, but he remained completely preoccupied with his feelings for Lily, and over the years he doubled his efforts to win her round. And although we found it highly amusing, we also saw that he was deadly serious about her, whereas she believed that he was merely showing off in front of his friends, trying to prove that he could get any girl that he desired to have.

Aside from the girls, our fun and adventure continued. Until the others had learnt to transform they could not keep me company at the full moon, but they made up for it in every other imaginable way. Their pranks, if possible, grew even wilder as we grew older, and the tricks we played on the teachers and other students were highly amusing, though admittedly childish and immature. I felt that we were getting a bit old for it, to be honest, but at the same time I couldn't bear the thought of not being a part of it, and so I encouraged them all the more. To this day I can still hear the laughter echoing round the Transfiguration class, as McGonagall's hair changed from steely grey to bright, electric blue. I still smile when I remember the day we slipped hiccoughing solution into the jugs of pumpkin juice on the Slytherin table at breakfast one morning.

But inside, they are bittersweet memories, small specks of light and laughter, in an otherwise empty black hole, which continues to gnaw away at my insides.

* * *

The day they managed to transform was one of the best moments of my entire life. They had been using a room on the seventh floor; the room of requirement, to study and practise in. I took a great interest in their work, watching them whenever I could, and occasionally offering advice, though I don't believe that they really needed it. They took every precaution necessary to ensure that nothing went wrong. It was quite strange, thinking about it, they could be so rational when it really mattered, in the face of something so potentially dangerous and irresponsible, when in everything else they were so reckless.

It must have been late October, as we were nearing Halloween, when at last their three years of hard work finally paid off.

James was the first to manage it. For many long months the three of them had been trying to do the actual transformation, but without much success, and they had been becoming increasingly frustrated, until James, lost his temper completely with it one night.

Back up in the common room, he slammed his fist on the table in anger. "This is stupid," he snarled. "We've done everything, we've looked at every flipping book in this entire castle and we still can't do it."

At that moment I nearly told him that he could just forget it, that it didn't matter, and that he didn't have to go to this trouble and frustration just to help me, when I looked into his eyes. And I realised that he would never give up. Even if I could be cured for good and no longer needed them to become animals for me, he would still keep trying until he succeeded. He had started it and he meant to finish it. There was something inside him, and there always had been, a furious determination that never let him give in. It was the reason he never gave up his attempts to impress Lily, and it was the reason that he would not give up trying to become animagi until the years of hard work were rewarded.

His eyes blazed in anger and even Sirius looked slightly alarmed. "James, calm down," he said. "I'm angry too, we all are, but getting annoyed isn't going to do any good. So just relax, OK?

James did calm down, and somehow managed to regain a state of complete calm the next day, and realised that that was the answer to the problem that he had had for the past few months. It seemed that after his outburst he had relaxed and found it easier to direct his mind towards transforming.

I remember the look of pure calm and concentration on his face, when we were in the room of requirement once again the next day, before his neck started lengthening, his body started growing, until suddenly, standing on the stone floor before us, was a proud and elegant stag. The stag bowed it's elegant head, and then, right before our eyes, the process was reversed, and we saw the animal slowly regress back into a human shape. James's expression on reappearing as a human was one of ecstasy and delight, and later that day, Sirius, taking the hint and forcing himself into a completely unflustered state of cool-headedness, also managed to transform for the first time, becoming a large black dog with sleek fur and a dark elegant head which bore a distinctly arrogant expression.

Peter took a little longer. He was not nearly as confident as the other two, and needed all the help he could get from them before attempting to transform. But three weeks later, we were yet again in the room of requirement, and there was suddenly a hiss of triumph from Sirius and James, and before our eyes was a large brown rat. Peter had finally managed it.

We were ready for our first adventure.

The first time they sneaked out to join me on the full moon, oddly, was the one of the smoothest adventures we ever experienced, undoubtedly because they were extremely cautious, sneaking out under the invisibility cloak, not transforming until they reached the tree, and, when we were out together as animals, keeping me well away from all human civilisation and remaining in the deserted woods which surrounded the village of Hogsmead.

But over time, I'm afraid to say; we became too cocksure of ourselves, and our vigilance waned. There were many different near misses, which became our little jokes that we laughed about easily afterwards, but the thought of what could have happened sometimes made me feel nauseous as I grew older and thought back to the careless way that we dismissed the mishaps.

There were times when I almost escaped from their company, times when I easily could have bitten someone, one time, when we were in the close vicinity of the Hogwarts grounds, and I even managed to find my way up to the doors of the castle, which had been left unlocked due to an unfortunate mistake of the caretaker, and if it hadn't been for James and Sirius's quick thinking I might have easily found my way inside, something that doesn't bear thinking about.

It was after times like these when I felt a deep guilt welling up inside me. Because I was betraying the trust of someone who had been so kind to me, someone who had accepted me when I thought I would be alone my whole life, and who was mainly responsible for my now having friends and being happy. I had sworn to Dumbledore that I would follow his rules, and I had become carried away with the cleverness of my friends.

We made many mistakes, but we always managed to forget them afterwards, turning our carelessness into jest, and planning our next adventure with as much enthusiasm as the last.


	6. Guilty Conscience

A/N I'm getting a bit fed up with writing the disclaimer and the summary with each chapter, so just see the previous chapters for that.

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It was not long before the easer holidays of our fifth year when Lily found out about what we had done. The other three were still practising transforming at every possible opportunity they had, to ensure that they would be able to do it without a hitch when necessary, because we had read in one of the books that if, in the beginning, it was not practised often enough, then there could be problems experienced in changing smoothly from human to animal, or vice versa, something that could prove fatal if it happened on the night of one of our full moon adventures.

We were in the room of requirement, as usual, James and Sirius watching as Peter, who always had the most trouble, transformed into a rat and back again time and time again, when the handle of the door turned, and Lily walked into the room, holding an armful of heavy books.

James's immediately ran his hand through his already messy black hair. It seemed to be an automatic reaction whenever she was near him.

Lily stood in the doorway, the look on her face mirroring the look on mine, James's and Sirius's. We were completely and utterly shocked. After discovering the room in our third year, we had believed that no one would ever walk in on us while we were practising. We had yet to learn that if two people wanted the room for the same reason, it was perfectly possible for someone to find us. We had wanted an out of the way place to study, and, judging by the stack of books in Lily's arms, so had she.

James was the first to recover from the surprise. Forgetting Peter immediately, he said "Hello Evans" in the smoothest voice he could manage.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the rat on the floor. If Peter had stayed as he was, in his rat form, we might just have got away with it, Sirius being a great one for inventing excuses on the spur of the moment. I could just see his mouth opening as he thought of some excuse, in order to explain us being in the room of requirement, without Peter, and with all three of us staring at an ordinary brown rat sitting on the stone floor. But Peter did not have a great deal of common sense, if any at all, and before Sirius could get a word out of his mouth, he chose at that moment to transform back into a human.

Lily's jaw dropped. It was one of the few times I'd ever seen her lose her composure. Her eyes, beautiful pools of emerald, widened in amazement and several of the books in her arms tumbled to the floor. She didn't notice, and when she spoke her voice was unusually shrill.

"James Potter, what on earth have you done this time?" she cried. James, unusually for him, was lost for words, and could only manage, "err… well… you see…"

But Lily was the smartest witch I'd ever met, and guessed everything.

"You can't- you can't have become animagi," she gasped. James grinned at her, and his usual smugly pleased look had reappeared on his face and he raised his eyebrows. "Impressed?" he asked casually.

Lily was clearly having trouble speaking. "How did you-? Why did you-? wh-what for?" she said at last.

Then she caught sight of me. I had been keeping a low profile in the corner of the room, but as her eyes fell on me her eyes became even wider. "It's for you, isn't it?" she said softly. "For your-," she broke off awkwardly and turned slightly pink as I stared at her in shock.

I had always felt a close connection with Lily. In my very first days at Hogwarts, when I had sat alone in the library, reading or studying, she had sometimes been there too. Even though we had not often engaged in conversation, I had still felt that there was something between us. Even now, she always treated me with a gentler approach than she did James or Sirius, something James had always been deeply envious of, and I'd always thought she held slightly more respect for me than she did for them, perhaps because we had both been made prefects. But I would never, ever have dreamed of telling her about my problem, and I knew that the others would not have done either. I would have felt too embarrassed about discussing something like that with her. So how was it she knew? Sirius's mouth fell open and he put forward my unasked question.

She waved her hand impatiently. "I'm not stupid." She said. "I worked it out ages ago. When we were in our third year."

"Does anyone else know?" I asked desperately. I couldn't have people knowing about me. I just knew I wouldn't be able to bear it. Lily must have seen the look on my face, because she was less impatient with me than the others.

"No, " she said, shaking her head. "Most people seem too stupid to work it out, or else they're not around you enough to notice anything strange. And I don't plan on telling anyone, so I wouldn't worry about it." I heaved an enormous sigh of relief, not being able to express my gratitude that she had been so understanding.

"But you can't seriously be thinking of running around at night with a fully fledged werewolf," Lily said, turning back to the others, her tone now one of both incredulity and slight scorn.

Peter lifted his head and nodded. "Already have," he said proudly.

Honestly! Sirius's nickname for him was, sadly, uncomfortably accurate. The rare occasions that he opens his mouth of his own accord to speak he chooses possibly _the_ most inappropriate times to do so. Sirius's' eyes rolled like marbles and James shot Peter a furious glare as Lily looked positively beside herself with disbelief

James looked at her. "Come on Evans, don't tell anyone, eh?" he said coaxingly. Lily glared at him, her eyes seemed to emit sparks, but then my eyes met hers. I looked at her beseechingly. In spite of the guilt I could sometimes experience for betraying certain people's trust in me, I couldn't bear the thought of going back to the lonely and painful nights of my transformations, now that I had realised how special they could be when I was with my friends.

She held my gaze for a few seconds, and then sighed in sheer exasperation. She bent down to pick up the books now lying scattered at her feet, and as she straightened up, her eyes were still glowing with fury. As she spoke she seemed to be having trouble getting out the words.

"You… Have got to be… The most idiotic people I've ever met in my life," she said angrily, storming from the room.

But she didn't tell anyone. I asked her why, years later, when all feuds and quarrels between her and James had been forgiven, and almost forgotten, and she told me that she didn't quite know, that she ought to have done, for both our safety and other people's, but something had held her back and she had kept quiet. Whatever the reason, I was deeply grateful to her, and over the years I grew to love her. Not in the same mad, intensely persistent way that James did, but I loved her nonetheless. She had stuck by my side in a way that very few other people ever have, she had understood me more than anyone had understood me in my life, and by the end of our years at Hogwarts I thought of her almost as a sister. In our seventh year in particular, she was gentle with me, and helped me to come out of my shell, to break free of the worry and paranoia that had surrounded me for so long.

The incident had clearly enraged her however. Her anger at James in particular showed clearly throughout the next year or so and his ceaseless attempts to impress her only infuriated her all the more.

James, though hugely popular with almost everyone, had a couple of confrontational "scenes" with people who disliked him, and, almost always being the stronger one when it came to spells or jinxes, could never resist a chance to show off and humiliate the person opposing him. Snape was his key target.

There was quite a nasty incident at the end of our fifth year, halfway through our OWLS. We were trying to relax by the lake, having just finished one of our gruelling exams, when Snape happened to pass by where we were sitting.

Both James and Sirius, unfortunately for Snape, had become restless and bored since the start of our exams. They seemed to be the only people who weren't at all bothered with revising or studying. I have to admit that they didn't need to be, because they always got top marks without doing an ounce of revision, but because no one else was in the mood for fun and games, they were limited in what stunts they could pull. So when, on that day, Snape came near to where we were, I could see that they were not in the mood to let such a good opportunity of letting off a bit of excess energy pass unscathed.

Both James and Sirius pulled out there wands as he approached, and Snape, never one to walk away from a fight, retaliated violently. Snape was as unpopular as the other two were liked, and the crowd, which formed to support James, laughed in delight as he was hoisted up by the ankle, dangling in mid air with his robes falling over his head, his rather grey underwear on display for everyone to see.

Lily, who happened to be nearby at the time, and still furious because of the incident in the room of requirement, at what she believed to be James's idiocy and carelessness over the matter of the Animagus transformation, and also at the fact that he apparently though that such a childish joke as this would amuse her, had sprung to Snape's defence. Her green eyes flashing, her red curls bouncing round her shoulders like dancing flames, she had shouted furiously at James and told him to leave Snape alone.

To this day I am a hundred percent positive that no one else would have had any affect on James whatsoever, except maybe Sirius, but there was no chance of him intervening, as he was enjoying the scene as much, if not more than everyone else was. Lily was the only other person that James would have stopped tormenting Snape for, and after several heated words between the two, he heaved a sigh, flicked his wand, and Snape fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. As Snape got to his feet James looked at him as one might look at a squashed fly, and said, "You're lucky Evans was here Snivellus"

Snape looked round at her with what appeared to be contempt, though I have since realised that it was probably just the bitter fury that he was directing at James, because as far as I can work out he had never had anything against Lily. The public humiliation had made him angry with everyone though, and he snarled at James before replying.

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" he spat angrily.

Lily blinked, and though she managed to keep her cool, she appeared to be hurt and slightly upset.

"Fine, I won't bother in future, and I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus." With these words she turned away, now almost as angry with Snape as she had been with James.

James was furious, and, in his turn, had tried to defend Lily and make Snape apologise, but it had only resulted in her rounding on him and saying a good many unforgettable things to him about his total lack of respect, his immaturity, and his inability to stop showing off, before storming off back to the castle, and James, in a fit of rage over what had been said, had proceeded to hang Snape back in the air. His robes fell back over his head once more and all that was visible were his greasy locks of black hair and the top of his forehead.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" James shouted to the crowd of people surrounding him, and jeers and laughter echoed all around. "Well, who does?" he yelled, sounding very much like an entertainer at a Muggle circus, trying to gain as much interest as possible before presenting their best act of the evening. This time there were yells of "I do!" and "Me!" mixed in with the ripples of laughter, and Sirius, who had been egging James on more than anyone else, said, "If you don't, Prongs, then I will." He pointed his wand at the still upside-down Snape.

I was still seated on the ground, and Peter was next to me. But while Peter was watching wide eyed, laughing shrilly at everything our two friends were saying and doing, I kept my eyes on my book, pretending to be absorbed in what I was reading. I couldn't concentrate though. I turned my head and looked at the lake, willing something interesting to burst out of it's cool, calm surface and distract me, but all I could see was the reflection of James and Sirius, as they stood either side of Snape, their wands pointing at his dangling, upside-down body.

James stared at Snape, his eyes glinting with a mixture of anger and amusement. Snape was spitting and cursing furiously, but as his wand was on the floor, he had no means of fighting back. James, enjoying the attention, pointed his wand slowly at the greying underpants, and, taking his time, making sure that all those in the vicinity could see, removed them and let them drop to the floor, where they lay on the grass so that everyone could take a good look at them. Screams of derisive laughter echoed all around. I heard girls giggling nervously and boys jeering maliciously.

I felt a hot flush creep up my cheeks and stared back at my book, trying to shut my ears to the noise. Next to me, Peter was sniggering into his hand, but I didn't find it nearly so funny. I couldn't help it, and I knew James would be scornful if I ever confessed it, but I felt sorry for him, because I knew that this was a kind of humiliation greater than almost any other, and also, unlike Sirius and James, I knew how it felt to be the centre of attention when you had no desire to be. I knew what it was like to be the target of someone's mocking taunts.

Even though it was a while ago, and even though it hadn't been for very long, I could remember being at the Muggle junior school, with other children laughing all around me, not with me, but at me. The unpleasant memory sent a shiver down my spine, and I at last raised my head and looked at the scene before my eyes.

James appeared to be debating whether to torture Snape any further, or whether to just let him go and lick his wounds in private. He apparently decided on a compromise, for although some ten minutes went by before he let him down, he neither said or did anything more, merely letting Snape hang there, still uttering every curse and swear word he had ever heard of, as the laughter continued to issue from the watching crowd, and until the part of Snape's forehead which was visible turned a darker shade of crimson than I would have believed possible.

Eventually, James flicked his wand, letting Snape fall in a heap on the ground on top of the pair of pants now lying on the grass below him.

He snatched the underwear as he disentangled himself from his ungainly position on the floor and then sprinted up the castle steps, his eyes now overflowing with tears of complete fury and total mortification. The crows of laughter followed him all the way, and even when the crowd had dispersed, I could still hear the echoes of it ringing in my ears.

The incident, though by no means the first, or the last, of James's confrontations with Snape, remained quite clearly in everyone's minds for some time after. Snape acquired many unpleasant nicknames afterwards, the politest and least hurtful of which were "snivel-head" and "slime-pants" and the most insulting of which made me cringe when I heard them.

I felt worried and guilty, feeling that, as I was a prefect, it had been my duty to stop the occurrence before it got so out of hand, and as I had not done so, it put me even more in the wrong than James and Sirius. I wasn't at all friendly with Snape, quite the contrary, but I nevertheless wondered whether he really deserved all that he had got. I'm almost certain that James and Sirius would not have stopped even if I had asked them to, but part of me felt that I should have at least tried.

As it was, I had done nothing, and so I did my very best to forget that it had ever happened, and ignored my guilty feelings. Ignoring guilt was something I was becoming very good at, I noticed uncomfortably, and though I did try a bit more in the future to put a stop to James's antics, I had very little, bordering on no effect on him whatsoever.

As for Lily, she feigned indifference to Snape's insult, but I could tell that it had hurt and upset her. I never knew exactly how her relationship with Snape had stood, but I knew that up until then they had tolerated each other at the very least. They had worked together in potions, being Professor Slughorns' two star pupils, and there had never seemed to be the usual Slytherin-Gryffindor feud between the two. But after what had happened she deliberately went out of her way to avoid him, and their friendship, or whatever else it was that had been between them, was never renewed. She certainly never tried to stick up for him again.

James was seething afterwards, but there seemed nothing he could do, nor anything that we could do, to help him. He had tried for five years now to gain Lily's trust and liking, but every one of these efforts had failed. Even Sirius did not seem to manage to cheer him up. James took his anger out mainly on Snape, who never forgave James for the underwear incident, and there were many other confrontational scenes between the two of them, in the majority of which James came out on top. I should have made more of an effort to put a stop to it, and I knew that even then, but I didn't have the nerve to tell him that I thought he was going too far, letting it continue as time went on.

It went on for sometime, and it has to be said that our sixth year was not our best year at Hogwarts. We had fun of course, we always did. Our adventures at the full moon grew more and more exciting, taking us further and further a field. We discovered more and more about the Hogwarts grounds and castle, until one day Sirius suggested that we record our findings down in some way. Which was how we came to write a map, a very unusual one at that, which was to cause a great deal of trouble in years to come.

The Marauders Map, as we called it, became our new project, and when at last we were finished, every single part of the Hogwarts grounds and castle included on it, we sighed it with the names that we had given each other not long after the night that the others had learned to become animagi: I was Moony, Peter was Wormtail, Sirius was Padfoot, and James was Prongs. The map, which we had enchanted to record everyone's' movements and whereabouts at any time, became a very useful tool for keeping out of trouble, something that only seemed to present us with an excuse to break rules.

But James was becoming increasingly gloomy because of his failure to impress Lily, and when Sirius failed to cheer him up he too became annoyed and irritable. Their usually high spirits were dampened, and James's behaviour was, in my opinion, (though I did not tell him this) becoming no less immature, thus infuriating Lily even more. If it hadn't been for an incident at the very end of our sixth year, which changed many peoples views on the current situation, he may never have realised just where he was going wrong in trying to win Lily's heart.


	7. Padfoot's Mistake

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For Summary and disclaimer see previous chapters.

* * *

It was mid June, and to be our last night time escapade for the school year, and I, as usual, had been led across the grounds by the school nurse so I was alone for my transformation. Sirius had sneaked out to meet his latest girlfriend by the Herbology greenhouses, and Peter and James were in the library, waiting for him to return so that they could start out on our latest adventure. We were all sincerely hoping in would go better than last time, because the last time I had somehow managed to give my friends the slip, and they had been frantically searching for me all night, becoming more and more scared that I was roaming round Hogsmeade unchecked. As it turned out, I had managed to find my way back to the forbidden forest, and they had found me in the early hours of the morning, and no harm was done, but when I heard what had happened I was horrified, and the thought that I could have bitten anyone made me fell terrible. So it was very extreme trepidation that I walked across to the Whomping Willow, desperately hoping that nothing would go wrong that night.

OoOoO

I was not therefore present to witness any of my friends' actions at the time, but from what I heard afterwards, it appeared that Snape, who had also been out of bounds at night, no doubt up to no good, had seen me crossing the grounds with the nurse and disappear into the boughs of the tree. As he saw that the tree was not attempting to lacerate us, in fact it was completely still, he was standing on the castle steps, wide eyed, and barely able to believe what his eyes had just witnessed, when Sirius had passed by, and realising what he was staring at, and that it was too late to distract him or stop him from seeing me, had thought what a brilliant idea it would be to tell him how simple it was to follow me and see what I was doing.

I can imagine it all too clearly, Snape standing with his mouth open, those cold black eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Sirius saying as he went by, in his usual casual way, "You want to follow him Snivelly? Just press that knot on the tree. It'll stand still for you."

I often wonder why on earth Snape didn't suspect a trap from the very beginning. He and Sirius had never been anything but bitter enemies, right from year one, and it must have seemed very odd that Sirius was willing to give away information about his friend so easily. I can only assume that curiosity got the better of him, and that he was so keen to find a way of getting one, if not all, of us expelled, that he did not think of the risks he may be taking in listening to Sirius and doing exactly what he said.

Sirius stood there, watching with a glint in his eyes as Snape didn't move, and then turned back to the castle to go and join his friends. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape move off the stone steps and watched with satisfaction as he walked in the direction of the tree.

I later heard various accounts of what had happened when Sirius returned to the library from Peter, James, and also from Lily, who was also in the library, studying.

Apparently Sirius had entered the library and, as he was late, James had looked up impatiently. "Have you finished snogging yet or should we wait a further fifteen minutes until you're quite sure that you're done," he asked, somewhat crossly.

Sirius just grinned. "Sorry I'm late," he said, and as James snorted in irritation he had said wickedly, "It's all for a good cause anyway."

"Oh yeah?" James asked disbelievingly.

"Well, yeah, I just told Snivellus how to follow Moony into the tunnel under the Whomping Willow."

Peter gave a little snigger, but cut it short as James looked up, the colour leaving his face very slightly. "You're joking?" he said his voice loosing its normal confidant tone. When Sirius didn't reply, James persisted, "You _are_ joking? Aren't you?" he said urgently. Sirius shook his head with a thoroughly amused look on his face, and then read James's expression, which was one of complete shock at what he had just heard.

"Oh come on Prongs, it's only Snivellus," he protested crossly. "You know, Snivelly "has-always-hated-us-and-is-always-trying-to-get-us-expelled" Snape? And you hate him too, remember?"

But James's face was now completely devoid of colour and he was staring at his best friend as if he could not believe his ears. His voice shook slightly as he replied. "Yeah, I do," he faltered. "But seriously Padfoot, this is going too far, much too far". He was looking desperately at Sirius, no doubt hoping that he had realised what he had done at any moment. But Sirius was looking incredulous.

"Too far?" he said. "Who was it who put that sticking charm on his broom in flying class all those years ago so he had to walk around stuck to his broomstick for half the day? Who was it who put itching powder in his underwear in our fourth year? Or even better, who was it who actually _removed_ his underwear last year and left him hanging upside down for the whole world to see him? Your not the only one who can pull pranks James." He looked mutinous and sulky.

James gaped at him. At any other time, bearing in mind then Lily was in earshot, the reminder of that day would have made him furious. But James was in such a state of complete shock that he barely even noticed what Sirius had said. As he replied his voice trembled even more.

"Have you any idea what will happen if he gets as far as the shrieking shack? Remus will have already transformed!" he gasped. "Sirius this is more than a prank, this is murder!"

And Sirius seemed to realise all at once the seriousness of what he had just done. That was Sirius all over; act first, think later, often too late. His handsome face paled as he looked at his best friend. Peter was looking between his two heroes as if trying to decide which one was right. James didn't bother saying anything else. Seeing that Sirius had finally understood, he jumped to his feet at once and ran from the room.

"What are you going to do?" Sirius called after him, to which James had replied,

"Anything, just something to ensure he doesn't come face to face a fully transformed werewolf in about ten minutes time. He paused for a moment, turned round at the doorway and looked Sirius in the eye. His own eyes were glowing with a sudden determination "I'm not going to let even my worst enemy be murdered by my best friends." He had raced out of the room at top speed.

They had forgotten Lily, and in fact, so wrapped up in what had happened they only noticed her ten minutes later, when she left the library with her usual armful of book, so they did not see that as the last of James's robes whipped out of sight, she was staring at the door in a nervous but also slightly admiring way. For the first time in six years, she was looking at him with something other than contempt. At long last, she had seen through the bigheaded exterior, and through to the nicer, more caring person who was lurking underneath.

From what I later heard, Snape was nearly at the end of the tunnel when James caught up with him. I had already transformed, and therefore I was in no position to show any mercy to a stray student wandering across my path. My transformations made me lose my mind, and I was unable to recognize anyone, even my best friends.

This was unfortunate for James, because he was unable to follow Snape in his animal form. The passage was not large enough to admit a fully-grown stag. In our previous adventures it had been up to Peter and Sirius to go through the tunnel first as animals, and keep me under control, and James would follow as a human, only transforming once he had reached the house, where there was enough space for him to do so.

But that night he was all on his own. There was no dog and no rat to distract me if things went wrong for him. James, I'm sure, was fully aware of this factor, but it did not deter him as he reached the tree, pressed the knot to make it stand still, and plunged into the dark tunnel concealed beneath the boughs.

Just as Snape was approaching the end of the tunnel, James caught up with him, grasped his shoulder and pulled him back roughly. I should think that Snape's reaction was not one of joy at seeing his worst enemy, and James told me later what a hard time he had had trying to convince Snape not to go any further.

"Snape, come back, it's not safe," he pleaded urgently.

But Snape just snarled in fury. He had been ridiculed and taunted by James too many times to believe him now. He brushed off James's restraining hand and continued down to the end of the tunnel. James shouted furiously.

"Come back you little idiot, you'll be killed."

Snape didn't falter, obviously thinking that James's words were just a ploy to prevent him from catching me red handed when I was doing something I shouldn't be.

Unfortunately noise attracts werewolves. The sound of human voices would have brought me running. James knew this, and ran after Snape as he got closer and closer to the end of the tunnel. And then Snape stopped dead, about ten feet from the end of the tunnel, his already pale face becoming the colour of sour milk. He could here it now, the snarls and howls that I was making. Snape stood stock-still, unable to move a muscle.

"Snape go back," James bellowed, and this time Snape obeyed, James's yell jerking him to his senses. He started to run, and James was quick to follow him, but as they got further away, Snape looked back over his shoulder. The end of the tunnel was still in sight, and, right in the entrance to the Shreiking shack, was a werewolf. Me. I had no doubt been attracted by the sounds of their voices, and, although I could go no further, the tunnel was to small to let me through, I was still visible. And there was nothing James could do. Snape saw me, and even though he was still running so as to get out of the tunnel, his grim black eyes were suddenly full of understanding. He wasn't completely stupid, after all. For him it was quite simple to put two and two together. He knew what I was.

It was an immense relief to Sirius and Peter, who were still in the library under James's invisibility cloak, when James returned to the castle with Snape in tow. Hearing footsteps, they came out of the library, and waited in the shadows of the entrance hall, watching as Snape spat something out at James and headed off to the dungeons. Sirius was looking white and shaken as they pulled the cloak off themselves and walked towards James. "What happened?" he whispered. "What did Snape just say?"

James shook his head. "That we hadn't heard the last of it," he said bitterly. "I'll tell you the rest in the morning," he added, as Sirius opened his mouth, and Sirius left it at that.

OoOoO

"…So then I yell at him to go back and he starts running." James was saying to Peter and Sirius as I entered the common room the next morning. It was a Saturday, and we therefore did not have classes. I had just been for my usual check-up with the nurse, and as I walked back to the common room I had been trying to recall what had happened the night before, because I usually had some recollection of what I had got up to with my friends, and that day I could remember nothing at all.

All three of them looked up as I entered the common room and approached them.

I looked at the confusedly. "What are you talking about?" I asked curiously.

James looked up with a strange expression on his face. "um, you might want to sit down," he said quietly. I did as he told me, worried by his tone of voice.

They told me everything, Sirius looking ashamed as he recounted his part in the affair, and James took up the story when it came to what had happened after he had left the library. Peter, as usual, sat there listening, and occasionally nodding his head when he particularly agreed with something they said.

When they had finished, I could actually feel the blood leaving my face. I had nearly killed my best friend. I was having trouble breathing. Part of me wondered how Sirius could have done something like that, but the other part of me knew that it had been a mistake, and that on this occasion he had simply gone too far. Sirius was not a murderer, whatever else he might be.

James stared at me worriedly. "Remus, no one's going to blame you, don't worry," he said. "You had nothing to do with it."

I didn't reply. It wasn't the getting into trouble that worried me. What concerned me was how close I had come to murdering two students in one night. Sirius glanced at James. "What's Snape going to do now?" he murmured.

James shrugged. "He said to me last night that we hadn't heard the end of it." He replied. "No doubt Dumbledore will get to hear about what happened."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, a prefect came up to where we were sitting. "Black, Potter, the headmaster wishes to see both of you in his office," he said briskly.

James looked at us with an expression that said, quite clearly, "What did I tell you?" and he and Sirius left the common room.

I waited with Peter, feeling apprehensive. I found it odd the Dumbledore had not sent for Peter and myself as well. Did he know we had had nothing to do with it, or did he just want James and Sirius's side of the story before anything else?

After a while the two returned, Sirius looking ashamed and flushed, a way I had never seen him before, and James looking worried.

"What did he say?" Peter clamoured anxiously. "Was he angry?"

James looked thoughtful. "Not so much angry as disappointed, I think." He said. "You know what he's like, never raised his voice or anything, and just looked at us over the top of his glasses. Snape had been to tell Slughorn, they were both there and everything, and Dumbledore just asked us what had happened and told Snape not to interrupt."

"Are you in trouble?" I dared ask.

James shook his head. "I'm ok, he realised I had saved Snapes life," he grinned, and a shadow of his old self showed on his face. "You should have seen the look on Snape's face when I got given twenty points for Gryffindor."

Peter looked at him open mouthed, but I noticed that Sirius was looking uncomfortable.

I looked at him questioningly. He sighed. "He docked fifty points, and I got detention of the rest of the term," he said gloomily. "And as well as that I have to scrub all the bathroom floors in the teacher's wings before the holidays. Without magic." He added.

There was a small silence. And then I thought of something else. "Does Dumbledore know about you becoming Animagi?" I asked nervously.

James looked thoughtful again. "I don't think so," he said. "Snape never saw me as a stag, so he definitely doesn't know, and no one else has realised anything before, have they? So I think it'll be all right. And you don't have to worry about him knowing about you either," he added to me, as if he had guessed what I was just about to say. "Dumbledore forbade him to tell anyone, and I don't think Snape would dare defy Dumbledore."

I felt distinctly relieved. Snape was nothing like Lily. If he had been allowed, he would have spread my secret to everyone who would listen.

Sirius hadn't said anything for a while, but he suddenly spoke. "So next year?" he faltered. "Are we… are we going to still going to… you know?"

"Have adventures you mean?" James said, and as Sirius nodded sheepishly, he shrugged. "I don't see why not." He said. "They're the best parts of being at school as far as I'm concerned. We'll have to be very careful though, more careful than before, I don't want anything like this happening again." He broke off and put his head in his hands. "You nearly gave me a heart attack last night Padfoot."

As Sirius was looking abashed, a movement in the corner of my eye made me look round. Lily was standing next to where we were sitting. Her arms were devoid of the usual load of books, and, though I couldn't be sure, her eyes looked very slightly red, as if she'd been crying, or had a bad night's sleep. She did not look nearly so composed as she normally did.

"James?" That in itself was a shock. I had never heard her call him anything but Potter.

James looked up in surprise, and for once his hand didn't jump to his hair the way it normally did. "Oh, hi" he said.

Lily was looking, unusually for her, uncomfortable. "I…I heard what happened," she said. "You know- last night," James waited, no doubt wondering if she was going to have another go at him for being irresponsible.

"I-I think you were really brave," she added nervously. My eyes widened in surprise. Sirius's eyebrows shot upwards into his hair, and Peter wrinkled his nose so that his face wore an expression of bemusement more profound than normal.

James looked rather taken aback. He didn't look cocky or pleased with himself like he normally did. He just smiled, though I did notice that his hand had jumped back to his hair.

"I-I …" he paused, and nodded slightly. "Thanks Ev-," he broke off before he could complete the word Evans and then looked her in the eye and swallowed.

"Thanks Lily…"

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What do you think? Please read and review. 


	8. Summer Surprises

For disclaimer and summary see first few chapters.

**a/n** Many thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter, and apologies for the very long delay between updates, which was mainly due to having no time at all to write.

Having read book 7, (which was brilliant, although I hate the fact that Remus died) I am now aware that there are a few elements of this story which don't quite tie in with the books any more. However, as it does not have a big effect on the overall story, I am continuing it, and later chapters will now refer to events in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

* * *

"You do realise," Sirius said, rolling onto his back and stretching lazily, "that we only have one year left at Howarts. We've been there six years already."

Several weeks into the summer holidays, and my three friends and I were lying on the grass under a large oak tree in James's back garden. It was the middle of August, and we really couldn't be bothered to do anything but laze around and talk. The sun was too hot for it to be comfortable, and it had been with great relief that the four of us had collapsed in the shady spot under the tree that afternoon.

I had already been at James's house for two weeks. After arriving home for the summer, the atmosphere in our house had become increasingly strained. The threat of war was getting stronger and stronger. It had been coming closer for many years. Lord Voldermort, although not as powerful, nor as feared, as he is today, was slowly gaining strength and followers, and attacks, on both wizards and Muggles, were getting more and more frequent as time went by, striking fear into peoples hearts. Wizards were becoming terrified, knowing that they still hadn't seen the worst of it, and fearing what may yet be to come, and the Muggle world had been thrown into a state of blind panic, as Voldermort's influence caused greater and more terrible disasters, which although were all being explained away with such things as "Hurricanes," "Power failures," and "Gas explosions", were making the Muggles increasingly suspicious.

My father, as a result, was away from home more often than ever before, with work at the ministry. He had recently been appointed a new position in the department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Wizards were now having to work harder than ever, not only to protect the Statute of Secrecy, but also to try and prevent the needless and cold-blooded Muggle killings that seemed to be becoming part of Voldermorts daily routine. My father's job was an important one, having to accompany teams of skilled wizards, occasionally even Aurors, to scenes of devastation and destruction, trying repair the damage that had been caused, which was sometimes an impossible task, and offering reassurance and protection to those few who had been lucky enough to survive.

He would, most days, have to leave the house in the early hours of the morning, not returning until after nightfall. My mother, not fully understanding how serious everything had suddenly become, became tense and quite irritable. She felt that as I was home for the summer, my father should at least be there to see me and to spend time with me. The strains in their relationship, which had been almost non-existent since I had started at Hogwarts, resurfaced once more, and on the rare occasions when my father was home before she went to bed, they almost always had a row, taking care to speak in low voices, as if they thought it would be easier for me to hear them arguing quietly.

Once again, just as I had done for so many years when I was smaller, I believed that I was causing them unhappiness, and just as I was beginning to dread the remaining five weeks of the holidays, cooped up with only my worried mother for company, I received a letter from James, inviting me to his house to stay for the rest of the summer.

"_Sirius has left home, for good this time_," he had written, _"he's camping in our garden, mum and dad offered him a bed but he says he prefers it out there, so I've joined him in the tent. We decided it would be much more fun if we were all here. Can you come? Wormtail is arriving the day after tomorrow._

I had, slightly nervously, told my mother about my friend's invitation, a little worried that I should not leave her when my father was away so often, but desperately wanting to escape from the claustrophobic atmosphere that was now present in my home. But she seemed happy, even relieved, to let me go. I think that she felt a little guilty about the situation that she and my father were putting me in, and just wanted me to be happy, and to spend the summer how I wished.

So, two days after receiving James's letter, I packed everything I would need, including my Hogwarts things, as we were to go straight from his house to Kings Cross Station on the first of September, bade a long cheerful farewell to my mother, and a considerably shorter one to my father as he left for a days work at the ministry, promising to write, assuring her that I would stay out of trouble (although I avoided her gaze as I said this, because keeping out of trouble was something I didn't seem to be able to do anymore) and set off for James house.

Two weeks had already gone by, much too quickly for my liking, and that afternoon James, yawning, sat up straight at Sirius's remark.

"Really?" he said in mock astonishment, "You mean we're _not_ still in the first year? How strange!"

Sirius grinned, and told him to shut up, but then a different look came into his eyes.

"I just mean," he said, "that after this year, it's- well it's the end, isn't it. Sort of the end of an era." He seemed embarrassed at his own words, perhaps thinking that they sounded too sentimental, or over emotional. But the cheeky grin that was almost permanently present on James's face was replaced by a wistful smile.

"Yeah, I know" he said, and I was sure that I could detect a hint of sadness in his voice. "And I will be sad to leave Hogwarts and everything, but-" he paused, "it's not really the end, is it. I mean, we've got so much ahead of us after we leave school, so much new stuff to do. If you think about it, leaving Hogwarts is just the beginning."

A slight flush appeared on his cheeks as well, and I looked from him to Sirius curiously. I have to admit that it was highly unusual to hear my two best friends talking in this wistful and reminiscent way, but they were only putting into words exactly how I was feeling. Hogwarts had been my home for six years now. It had become almost a part of me, and, after everything I had experienced there, I couldn't believe that this was going to be my last year. Peter sighed but did not speak, and I guessed from his expression that he felt the same way. All four of us sat there or a few moments, lost in a rare moment of nostalgia, until Sirius, with a return to his usual tone, sat up properly, and said to James, "Yeah, you're probably right. It's not like we haven't got stuff to look forward to. And who knows, maybe in a few years-" a look of sheer determination crossed his face, his grey eyes became steely and hard, and his head was suddenly held very high. "Sirius Black, head of the Auror office!"

James snorted. "I think you mean James Potter, head of the Auror office," he said, an amused glint in his eyes. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be my right hand man," he added as an afterthought.

Sirius scowled at him. If everything went according to plan - and there was no reason why it shouldn't given the high marks the two of them had been receiving at school- he and James were both to start Auror training after leaving Hogwarts. It was, of course, a tough job, and was guaranteed to present to them bigger challenges than they had ever experienced before. Both of them were aware of just how important the job was, especially with the shadow of war coming ever closer, and the thought of being able to actually take action against Voldermort and his followers was no doubt very appealing to them, as was the undisputable respect that there was to be gained from having such a high profile job.

Sirius, however, seemed even more serious about it than James did. Having come from a family of Pureblood wizards, all of whom had been in Slytherin house at Hogwarts, and most of whom looked set to become, if they weren't already, supporters of Voldermort, or even Death Eaters, I think that, for him, nothing could be more satisfying than becoming a dark wizard catcher. It was a mark of his sheer obstinacy, his complete and utter refusal to cooperate with their beliefs. A gleam of savage pleasure came into his eyes at the mere mention of the Auror office, and even James's comment seemed to irk him, despite the fact that it was a joke. James seemed to realise that he had touched a nerve, because he changed the subject as quickly as possible, and did not bring it up again.

Peter, who, it had to be said, had neither the brains or the nerve to be an Auror, was hoping to become a junior member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, not so much because ministry work interested him, but because it enabled him to stay close to his two idols even after leaving school. We had long since given up the hope that he would one day make a decision for himself.

Finding work after Hogwarts was, for me, more problematic. The wizarding community was, and always had been, deeply mistrustful of my kind. To them, all werewolves were the same. They were monsters. Beasts. Savage creatures without a proper heart or soul that could not be trusted. And I was no exception. There were no exceptions. To most people, it didn't matter about what results I could achieve in examinations, what sort of personality I had, or what I believed in. Being a werewolf was enough to put a black mark over my name without any further questioning.

I had looked into many job opportunities in my previous years at Hogwarts, and taken careers advice from almost all of my teachers, after but in every area of work available to wizardkind I could tell that I was going to encounter problems, difficult questions, and flat refusals. I had even made contact with heads of departments at the ministry and other wizarding associations, and after that had failed, some shop owners in Hogsmeade and Digon Alley. I knew that trying to conceal the fact that I was a werewolf was not an option, and I was hoping to find someone who was prepared to take me on in spite of my affliction. But it seemed hopeless. Everywhere I tried it was the same short, and not always polite, reply, over and over again. I would not be suitable. It was impossible to employ someone in my "situation". It was too risky. It was too dangerous. In short, I was completely unemployable because of that one small error I had made in my childhood, letting myself me bitten. I had cursed myself countless times for my stupidity, but what was done could not be undone, and I was having to face the consequences.

It didn't matter to everyone else that I detested being this monster. They did not care that the hateful creature that lay dormant inside of me and awoke once a month filled me with more fear and disgust than it did any of them. And if I was honest, I knew in my heart that I myself was not able, and had never been able, to truly accept myself because of what I was, so how could I expect other people to do so?

My one shining hope had, once again, been Dumbledore. He had told me, in his usual calm, wise way, at the end of our sixth year, when I had been starting to despair, that I was not to worry, that he had many contacts, at the Mffinistry and many other places besides, that he was sure that he would be able to help me find a position somewhere, and that, if all else failed, I could have a job at Hogwarts in a few years time. That last statement had been said with a twinkle in his blue eyes, and I had not really known whether to take him seriously, but one thing I had known, at least it was what I had believed at the time, was Dumbledore was one person I would always be able to count on. And had everything gone to plan, had everything in our lives not taken a drastic turn for the worst, I have no doubt that Dumbledore, who was so respected throughout the magical community, would have done everything in his power to ensure that I had a proper future. That summer, I was still optimistic about what was to come.

It makes me sad now, to think of the bright future we all could have had, the one we all _should_ have had, had everything not gone so horribly wrong.

That summer was probably the last truly peaceful and happy summer the four of us ever knew. We were still young; I don't think we could truly understand how big the war would become, how many lives it would claim. We had heard rumours about the dark wizards gaining power for so many years when we were younger, and, more recently, read the horrific stories that, almost everyday, were front page news in the Daily Prophet, about mass murders, muggle killings, sickening tales of torture and blackmail and pure spite. But reading about it, seeing it in black and white, when it was just written on a paper that could be folded, hidden, or thrown in the fire, was very different from experiencing it first hand. We had known for some time that things were getting serious, that Voldermort was getting ever stronger, that more and more people were dying, but somehow, although we found the idea of war deeply disturbing, it was not enough to mar our happiness and carefree ways.

We had yet to be touched by the effects of the war, and, still at school, with Hogwarts and Dumbledore's protection, we just didn't realise just how much we could lose, how brutally our families could be torn apart, nor how cruelly our bond of friendship could be broken.

We were happy, and at the time, that was all that mattered.

Staying a James house was fantastic. I had never been there before. I had met his parents on several occasions, but briefly. They were a kindly, caring couple, who clearly adored their only son, and therefore doted on him, spoiling him whenever they could, and almost always letting him have his own way. I have no doubt that it was being constantly praised and admired his whole life that had given him his great sense of self-assurance, his cockiness which bordered on sheer arrogance at times, that he was only just learning to tone down and control.

In the weeks we were staying with his house we spent the nights camping in the tent in his garden, which was easily as big inside as our dormitory at Hogwarts, and the days playing many games of two-a-side quidditch in the Potters large garden, celebrating the fact we could now do magic outside school by using our wands for every minor action, half-heartedly writing our summer essays, or else just lazing in the sun, holding numerous conversations, which generally revolved around school, Quidditch, and, whenever James managed to commandeer the conversation, Lily, with whom he felt he was finally getting somewhere.

The two of them had not had a great deal of contact since the night that James had saved Snapes life. In spite of her words to him that night, she had barely spoken to him since, flushing slightly if she came face to face with him in the corridors, avoiding catching his eye, and keeping out of his way as best she could. James had, unusually for him, not persisted, perhaps having finally realised that going slowly was the surest way of winning her round. He had talked to her, occasionally, being careful to call her "Lily", and not "Evans", something which she seemed to appreciate, even if she did not make a great deal of effort to engage in conversation.

I had a shrewd suspicion that she was now battling with herself, one part of her trying obstinately to remember the James who she had made a great show of disliking over the previous six years, the other part of her yearning to get to know the much nicer boy who lay under James confident exterior, who she had now seen a brief glimpse of, and who, in spite of herself, had liked. She had responded to James enthusiastic farewell after getting off the Hogwarts express at the end of term, responding to his vigorous wave and shout of "Have a good summer Lily!" with a twitch of her hand and a smile of her own, something she had never done in previous years.

She was still keeping her distance, but, according to James at least, these small changes in her attitude towards him were a good sign. I was quite prepared to take his word for it, but James was not at all reluctant to go into details, very keen to express his views on the latest development in his relationship, and for the first few days of our time together, he talked almost non-stop, about if, when and how he would actually be able to ask her out the next year, until Sirius, exasperated, had threatened to jinx his mouth shut with a permanent sticking charm if he mentioned the subject of Lily again.

James had since been very careful, knowing that Sirius was quite capable of doing something of that nature. He had not been able to completely avoid the subject, and Lily's name still cropped up repeatedly in our conversations, but although Sirius responded each time with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he accepted James restraint and made no attempt to carry out his threat, occasionally consenting to give James a few words of advice, which, considering his experience, were probably very helpful.

Peter and I remained mostly silent throughout these conversations, as neither of us had a lot of experience when it came to girls. I had, mostly on my friend's encouragement, been out on a couple of dates in the previous two years, but due to my lack of openness and refusal to talk about myself they had not been very successful. I was not sure I fully understood girls, and when I'd dared confess this to Sirius and James, they had both laughed and said that no one did, something that did not make me overly optimistic about getting a girlfriend in my last year at school.

I was, however, very much looking forward to the coming year at Hogwarts, and as it approached, we began to anticipate what adventures this seventh and final year might have in store for us.

A week before we were due to go back to school, the four of us were sitting in the Potter's kitchen, eating breakfast, which was today, on James's request, pancakes. James was smothering his own helping with a covering of pumpkin syrup and sugar so thick that you could barely see the actual pancake at all, when an owl appeared on the window sill outside with a dignified hoot, and a rustle of its grey wings. Four letters were attached to its leg.

"Hogwarts letters!" James exclaimed, jumping up. "About time! I though Dumbledore must have decided that we weren't welcome back this year after all."

He jumped up, ran to the window and opened it, whereupon the owl hopped in and stood on the kitchen worktop, patiently waiting to have the four letters removed from its leg. James untied the string binding each letter as hurriedly as possible and returned to the table, distributing the letters, as the owl quickly dipped it's beak into the half full kitchen sink, and, refreshed for the journey back to Hogwarts, took flight back out of the open kitchen window.

I opened mine, and read it briefly. There were three new books to purchase, and other than the fact that there was a short notice written at the bottom of the parchment, informing us that standard dragon hide gloves would no longer be sufficient protection in Herbology, something that, admittedly, gave me a slight sense of apprehension, the letter was much the same as it had been for the past six years.

My mind wandered idly back to my very first Hogwarts letter six years ago, remembering how bitterly disappointed I had been as my father refused to let me attend, and then how Dumbledore had been so kind, so understanding. I suddenly felt a rush of gratitude for the man, as I thought of everything I now had, thanks to him, which I took so much for granted, but which, six years ago, had been nothing more than a hopeless dream.

Suddenly a loud yelp from opposite me shook me out of my thoughts, and looking up, I saw that James was now holding his Hogwarts letter at arms length, as though afraid that it would explode, his eyes wide and his mouth open.

"No way!" he exclaimed

Sirius, who had returned to his rather large portion of pancakes after reading his own letter, looked up questioningly.

"Wha'?" he inquired, through a mouthful of food.

James did not reply, his mouth was still open, and, mouthing wordlessly, he lunged across the table to grab the envelope that had contained his letter; which he had tossed carelessly aside just moments before; knocking the butter dish of the table and onto the floor with a crash.

"I don't believe it…no way!" he said again, ignoring the sound of breaking china and turning his envelope upside down, shaking it a little as he did so.

"What?" Sirius repeated impatiently.

James still did not reply and Sirius opened his mouth again irritably, but his unasked question was answered for him. As James shook the envelope, a shining gold badge fell out of the envelope and onto the polished tabletop. Leaning forward to look at it, I saw that two words were writing on the front in silver letters.

All four of us stared at it for a second or two. Then I came to my senses. "_You're_ head boy?" I said incredulously. Peter's eyes widened in amazement, and Sirius appeared utterly incapable of coherent speech, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. When he had recovered a little, he reached out his hand, and grabbed the letter from James. "Let's see that, there's got to be a mistake," he snorted. "There's no way …_no way_… how can _you_-" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"It says, it's written there, there's no mistake," James said, sounding a little smug. He was grinning broadly, his face full of childish glee. I was reminded for a fleeting moment of a five year old in Honeydukes sweet shop.

His parents had suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway from the next room, no doubt wondering what all the commotion was about, and James jumped up from his seat excitedly, waving his letter in their faces. "I'm head boy!" he cried ecstatically.

Before that moment, I would have said that nothing could have made Mr and Mrs Potter more proud of James than they had already been. I would however, have been wrong. After several minutes of initial astonishment, during which their reactions were much the same as mine, Sirius's and Peters had been, they were able to talk. With broad smiles on their faces, they congratulated him nothing short of twenty times, read his letter over and over again, and examined every square millimetre of the golden badge as if to learn it by heart, before rushing out of the kitchen to inform their friends, neighbours, and anyone else they could find, that their son was soon to be head boy of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Once they had left the kitchen, Sirius who was still goggling at James, said. "How, in Merlin's name, are _you_ head boy? I mean, no offence James, but _you_? When have you ever - _ever_, shown any signs of – of…" He searched in vain for the right word… "Headboyishness?"

"Perhaps Dumbledore's losing his senses," I suggested dryly, picking up James's letter which, until that moment, I had not had a chance to read. I skimmed the page, my eyes stopping only at the bit that interested me. Sure enough, at the bottom, was written in none other than Dumbledore's very own narrow, slanted writing.

_Mr James Potter, it is with great pleasure that I inform you that you have been appointed with the position of Head Boy for this coming year at Hogwarts._

James, quite suddenly, looked awkward. "Remus...it, well, it should have been you really- I- I'm sorry."

I stared at him, surprised. "Me?" I said with a laugh, genuinely surprised at James's comment. It was true I had been the Gryffindor prefect for the previous two years, but to be honest I think more through default than anything else, due to the fact that I was, to use my father's expression, "the only fire crab in a group of dragons". In other words, I was far from being perfect, but I was the most suitable candidate out of a bad lot.

Dumbledore had, no doubt, thought it would be good for me to have a little responsibility, and had probably held out a vague hope that I would be able to exercise some control over James and Sirius, something that I had, without question, failed miserably at. I had honestly not even considered the possibility of being head boy, and at that moment, even in my astonishment that Dumbledore felt that James would be suitable, I felt a huge sense of relief that I was free from the weighty task of being the voice of authority in my little group.

I said all of this to James. "And anyway," I finished with a grin. "After what happened at the end of last term Dumbledore probably thinks you're the perfect man for the job. I mean, you showed that you could be responsible and everything when you rescued Snape; he probably wants to give you a chance to show a bit more of all that. Probably hoping we'll see a whole new side of you.

I had actually meant for this to alarm James more than anything else, but he just stared at me, then at the badge in his hand, and grinned. "Head boy," he murmured. "Wow, I don't believe it." He stayed silent for a few seconds, and then his grin got even wider and he punched the air. "I'm head boy," he yelled.

Sirius was looking at him without smiling. "Well, I don't know why you're so happy about it," he said gloomily. "Head boy, as Remus just said, means responsibility, which, in case you hadn't realised, means no more pranks, no more jokes, no more jinxing Slytherins just for the sake of it. It might even mean no more sneaking out every full moon. You have to be sensible, remember, and set an example for others."

I half expected James face to fall, but it didn't. He looked a little dazed, his eyes had become slightly unfocused and he didn't seem to have heard what Sirius had just said. A very familiar expression had appeared on his face, one I had seen many times before, particularly that summer.

And I suddenly realised exactly why James was so happy about his new position, because I had half been expecting him to share Sirius's gloom at no longer being able to break the rules.

I leaned towards Sirius, who was still regarding James with a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and disappointment. "Three guesses who's head girl?" I murmured in his ear.

Sirius's forlorn look was immediately replaced with a wicked grin. "Oh, of course," he said, starting to laugh. "Why didn;t I see that one straight away?"

There could be no question about who would be head girl that year. Lily, aside from being the cleverest witch in our class, had shown from our very first year that she was responsible, kind, and sensible, as well as being a strong enough character to take on leadership well. She had been a prefect for the previous two years, and, unlike me, had demonstrated that she was capable of exercising the perfect amount of control over both herself and others, thus making herself a near certain choice for head.

James had clearly realised this too. With one last gleeful shout, he bounded out of the kitchen, and up the stairs, leaving me, Peter and Sirius to stare at one another, still in slight shock at the unexpected turn of events. His plate of pancakes, which he had been so eagerly devouring not so long ago, was left unfinished on the kitchen table. Sirius raised his eyebrows, then, with a shrug, sat down and, having finished his own breakfast, pulled James's plate towards him. "I think it's going to be an interesting year," he mumbled, his mouth almost too full to speak.

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	9. A New Term Begins

For disclaimer and summary see first few chapters.

**a/n** Yet another long delay between updates, but thanks to those who reviewed. I now have most of the story planned out, and I should be updating more regularly from now on.

Please read and review x

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Sirius's prediction of an interesting year looked set to come true before the term had even properly begun.

At five minutes to eleven on September 1st, the four of us were standing on platform Nine and Three Quarters, surrounded by the general bustle of activity, as first years said goodbye to their parents for the first time and older students greeted each other excitedly, while others struggled along the platform with loaded trolleys, or shoved heavy trunks onto the Hogwarts express.

As was almost impossible to make ourselves heard over the loud noises of people talking, owls hooting and cats mewling, the four of us set off down the platform in silence, looking hopefully for an empty compartment. When at last we had found a vacant one near the engine and thankfully loaded our trunks in, James threw himself into a seat by the window and sighed contentedly.

"Don't get too comfortable," I warned with a grin. "You'll need to go off on your duties in a bit." As Head Boy, he would soon have to go to the prefects carriage, a prospect that was causing us all, especially Sirius, a good deal of hilarity.

"Now, you be good and stay out of trouble," his mother said warningly as James leaned out of the open window to say goodbye to his parents. "No more messing around now you're Head Boy." James assured his mother that he would be as good as gold, with an angelic smile on his face that could only have convinced two such doting and trusting parents as Mr and Mrs Potter. Sirius, Peter and I exchanged amused glances behind his back.

"Thanks for everything," Sirius called, and Peter and I called out our thanks as well. They both shook their heads, claiming that it was nothing, and then stood back as the doors were slammed shut, and steam began to issue from the scarlet engine.

After a few minutes James sat up. "Well, I'd better go to the prefects carriage I suppose," he said. And then, with a bemused expression, he added, "Blimey, that's something I thought I'd never have to say, it feels so weird!"

He got up and slid open the door to our compartment; stepping out into the corridor just as a tall, redheaded figure went by. James's smile widened visibly.

"Hi Lily," he said, evident enthusiasm in his voice, blocking her way so that she had no choice but to stop just in front of our compartment.

Lily did not return the beaming grin, but her lips did twitch, and she didn't look exactly displeased to see him. Sirius, Peter and I watched the scene in silence. Even Sirius seemed to sense that now was not the moment to intervene with a witty or sarcastic comment.

"Hello James," she said politely, and made to walk past him.

"Did you have a good summer?" James persisted, still blocking her way. For a moment I thought Lily wasn't going to reply, because her mouth tightened and a closed look appeared on her face, but then she shrugged. "It was alright," she said, although on closer inspection I saw that she looked quite pale and tired. Her eyes were slightly red and it looked like she might even have been crying. James looked at her and was about to speak again but she cut over him.

"James, look, I'm sorry, but I have to go to the prefect's compartment, so-"

James's face split with a broad smile once more. "Well, at least allow me to accompany you," he said brightly, and as Lily opened her mouth, probably to refuse this generous offer, he went on, "I have to go there myself as a matter of fact."

Lily stopped short. "You do?" she inquired, raising her eyebrows a little. "And why would that be?"

James didn't have time to answer, however, because at that moment her eyes had fallen on his golden Head Boy badge. James had pinned it proudly to his chest the minute he had got dressed that morning and it had been standing out against his navy blue jumper ever since. Lily had clearly not noticed it until then.

She stared at it for a minute, shut her eyes and opened them again, unable to believe what she'd just seen. "_You_? You're head boy?" Her mouth fell open. "How?…I mean...you?…How?" she finished at last.

Sirius, who had been watching their interaction and thoroughly enjoying it, was unable to keep silent any longer and said, "Yep, that was pretty much our reaction as well."

"We thought Dumbledore must have gone mad," I added calmly.

"Even James couldn't believe it," Sirius continued in a smooth voice. "Looked as though he'd been hit over the head with a beaters bat when he received his letter."

James shot him an annoyed look, clearly not wanting him to say anything else that might embarrass him in front of Lily. Sirius caught the look and subsided, content to watch the scene in silence now that he had had given his two knuts worth.

Lily had quickly regained her composure. "Well," she said matter-of-factly, "then I suppose you know that we should be in the prefects' carriage by now. We need to greet the sixth year prefects, and inform the new fifth year ones of their duties and everything."

"Of course I know that," James said, putting on a falsely injured tone. "It was written at the bottom of my letter. I do know how to read you know."

"And," he added, as Lily rolled her eyes, "I don't quite know why everyone's acting so surprised. "I mean," his hand jumped onto his mess of jet-black hair, and made it even messier, "can you honestly think of a better candidate for head boy?" I suppressed a snort of laughter. He had been doing a reasonably good job at being modest until then. But James could never resist showing off for very long, especially not in front of Lily.

Lily snorted. "You'll never lose that big head of yours, will you Potter?" she said, and although she sounded serious, I was sure I could detect a glint of amusement in her green eyes. "Well, come on then, we'd better get going, we're late as it is." she said, and set off down the corridor at a brisk march. James, as he made to follow her, turned round briefly, and gave us a triumphant smile.

Sirius shook his head in disbelief as the compartment door slid shut behind them. "I still can't believe that _James_ is Head Boy," he murmured. "I just hope Dumbledore knows what he's let the rest of the school in for. And as for Lily, she'll probably be tearing her hair out before long. Now that James has an excuse to always be around her he won't leave her alone."

There was a brief silence, "Do you think he'll go out with her this year?" Peter piped up. "She doesn't seem to hate him any more."

I exchanged a look with Sirius. "I'm not sure she ever really hated him, you know," he said thoughtfully. "I think she just found him infuriating. And things are a bit different now, after what happened with Snape at the end of last year. I mean…she's seen that he's all right underneath, hasn't she? I would say there's a pretty good chance of them getting together this year, to be honest. And I know James, he won't give up, whatever happens, not after six years of solid trying to win her round."

"He really is serious about her, isn't he?" I mused, half speaking to myself, "I have wondered, in the past, whether he was just having a bit of a laugh, trying to get her to go out with him to show off a bit. And I'm sure that's what Lily thought."

Sirius nodded slowly, "I know. I thought the same sometimes. Not always, I mean…it was obvious he was desperate to go out with her… but occasionally I _did_ think I that maybe he didn't care about her as much as he was pretending to. I even told him to give up on her," he admitted a little sheepishly.

"You did?" I said in surprise. "I didn't know that!"

"Yeah, well," Sirius said, "He didn't take it very well, so I didn't bring the subject up again. It was a while ago, back in our fifth year. I don't know where you and Peter were but it was just the two of us, and it was the day after that incident with Snape…you know, when he - well" he coughed, and then went on, sounding a little ashamed, "when we turned him upside down and Lily came up and said all that stuff to James, about him being arrogant and bigheaded and all the rest. And afterwards he was pretty fed up. I mean, let's face it," he looked at us with a rueful smile, "It wasn't exactly nice what she said, was it? Though there was some truth in it. I think he's realised that now… " He tailed off, perhaps thinking that it was time he himself became a little more mature and sensible.

"Yes, and?" I prompted him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, well, yeah, he was really fed up, and I told him to give up on her. I told him that Lily wasn't the only girl in he world, and that as he wasn't exactly short of opportunities, it might be best if he just gave up and tried to find someone else to focus his attention on."

"I'll bet he loved that," I said with a laugh.

Sirius grimaced. "Well, we had a bit of a row actually, and that doesn't often happen. He looked at me like I was mad, and then said all this stuff about how he'd, you know, how he'd felt that way about her since the first time he saw her, and how he hadn't spent five years trying to get her to like him just to give up because she'd had a go at him. He got pretty angry actually, not joking or laughing or anything. And I knew then, that he really was serious, that he wasn't just messing around."

We fell silent again, until I said, "The thing is, he went about it in the wrong way. Showing off was never going to impress her; it just made her angry. And he's only just realised that. Well, better late than never, I suppose"

Sirius smiled. "I just hope that this year he gets what he wants, otherwise he'll get depressed again, like he was at the end of last term. That'd be unbearable. It's bad enough that he has to be a good boy and set a good example."

I lapsed into silence once more as the train made its journey through the green fields and deserted woods. Sirius's words had just reminded me of something that I had been worrying about for a while now. Ever since the morning James had received his Hogwarts letter I had been aware that now he was the voice of authority he _was_ going to have to become considerably more careful when it came to breaking the rules. To be honest, I would not be too bothered if he stopped playing practical jokes on people, or jinxing them just for the sake of it. It may be amusing at times, but it had always bothered me a little, especially as both James and Sirius had a tendency to get carried away. Our adventures every full moon however, were another matter. They always made up a big part of our year at school, and helped me no end with my transformations. If James should decide that being head boy no longer permitted him sneak out every month, I would be faced with a problem.

I voiced this thought to the others. Peter looked crestfallen. "You mean we really can't go out at the full moon any more?" he asked, his nose wrinkled in disappointment.

"Don't be stupid, of course we can," Sirius said at once, and as I looked unsure he went on, "James won't change that much. If I know him he'll be looking for an opportunity to break the rules before long."

"Yeah, but do you know James now he's head boy?" I said. "He may well decide that he can't take the risk now he has so much responsibility, and he's quite within his rights to forbid us go out anymore as well." I was trying to sound casual, but I couldn't keep a note of worry out of my voice, which Sirius detected.

Looking sympathetic, he said, "Look Remus, James knows how important this is for you, we all do, and after all, it was our idea to become animagi in the first place to help you. It would be unfair to stop now just because James is head boy. If James really doesn't like it then he doesn't have to come with us, and he can pretend he doesn't know anything about it."

I felt slightly happier, but also guilty. It was one thing to go along with my friends, but quite another to persuade them to keep breaking the rules if they started showing signs of responsibility. An argument I had been having with myself for a long time resumed itself in my head. I had never been able to forget Dumbledore's words to me on the day I had first met him. "_I will have to ask you, Remus, to follow the rules that I will set down for you, to ensure not only other's safety, but yours as well." _I had given him my promise so easily and readily and yet, for over two years now, I had betrayed his trust. I had not followed the rules he had set down for me, and I had put the lives of my fellow students in danger countless times. Part of me felt terribly guilty about this, but the other part of me just couldn't bear to forgo the pleasure of having company on the nights of my transformations.

"I guess James isn't coming back then," Sirius said with a sigh, as the lady with the food trolley passed and James, despite his promises to return as soon as possible, still had not reappeared. "He said he wouldn't be long."

"Yeah, well, he's probably busy," I said, and Sirius grinned craftily.

But, ten minutes later, the compartment door slid open, and James entered, looking a little flushed.

"Well?" Sirius said, before he'd even sat down.

"Well what?"

"Well, what happened with Lily?"

"Nothing," James said innocently. "Why, what were you expecting?"

We stared at him impatiently. He removed the innocent expression from his face and became more serious. He shrugged.

"Honestly, nothing happened," he repeated. "We didn't talk much, and she did all the talking to the other prefects. I thought it would be best if I left her to do that, seeing as I'm new to this whole "I'm in charge" thing, although she had a bit of a go at me about it afterwards. Said we both were heads so I should have said a bit more, made a bit more of an effort to set a good example." He smiled. Apparently even Lily telling him off brought good memories.

"And then?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"Well then, I came back here, didn't I?"

Sirius was looking thoroughly disappointed. "But you've been gone ages," he protested. "Something more than that _must_ have happened."

James shrugged again. "Well, we both stayed in the prefects carriage for a bit, and talked to the others. Your brothers been made a prefect by the way," he added, and Sirius made a derisive noise in the back of his throat. "What a surprise," he retorted scornfully, "A dark-arts loving pureblood becoming a Slytherin prefect! Bet my parents are thrilled. Did you speak to him?"

"Err, only briefly," James said. "He told me you'd run away from home, and I said that I knew that, 'cos you'd been at my house all summer, and then he said…err… well… he said that your mum had removed you from the family tree. Blasted a hole in the Black tapestry.

Sirius hunched his shoulders moodily. "How will I live with the grief?" He muttered under his breath, and James dropped the subject, realising he was in dangerous waters.

"So anyway, we talked a bit to the others," he went on. "And then Lily said she'd better get back to her compartment, so I came with her. Like I said, we didn't say much to each other. I asked her what she had done this summer, but she said she didn't want to talk about it, something about problems with her sister. She seemed pretty upset."

He shot a look at Sirius, who was still looking disbelieving. "Well, what was supposed to happen?" he asked, "I wasn't going to mess things up again on the very first day of term, was I? Not now she's only just starting to talk to me properly. You realise that I might actually be getting somewhere now? And she wasn't in the mood to talk, so I didn't want to persist. I don't want to blow it." He sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "I _really_ don't want to blow it," he said again quietly, this time more to himself than anyone else.

The three of us stared at him, wide eyed, and once again I saw proof that, whatever Lily might think, James really was deadly serious about her. What surprised me most of all was his mature way of handling the situation. In the last two months he seemed to have aged mentally by at least four or five years. I glanced at the other two. Peter had his mouth slightly open, and was staring at James, half confused, half admiring. Sirius however, did not look at all thrilled by his friend's new level of maturity. James, suddenly shaken out of his thoughts, noticed us all staring at him.

"What?" he said.

"I was just thinking that you've become a lot more mature all of a sudden," Sirius said, voicing my thoughts exactly. "We were just talking about our full moon escapades. Remus said maybe we couldn't do them anymore and I told him not to be ridiculous."

James grinned at me, although I had a feeling that his mind was still on Lily. "I said this last term, and I'll say it again" he said. "They're the best part of being at school. Of course we'll still do them."

I felt reassured and worried at the same time. James looked at the three of us, a bemused expression on his face. "You didn't think I'd change that much, did you?" he said in astonishment. "And talking of changing, we'd better get into our robes," he added, glancing out of the window. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see the landscape through which the train was making its journey, as darkness was falling, but I could just make out the shapes of the small brick houses that lay on the outskirts of Hogmeade, and by the time the four of us had pulled on our robes, the train had arrived in Hogsmeade station.

Once on the platform, I looked down at the younger students milling around, unable to believe that I had once been that small and scared. Sirius and Peter chuckled in amusement as a first year staggered of the train, tripped on his too-long robes and ended up flat on his face right in front of us. Suppressing a smile myself, I made to help him, but James beat me to it. "It's my duty as Head Boy to help the younger students, after all," he said in a mock serious tone, when he noticed me looking at him with raised eyebrows. I had a feeling that he had probably only done it in the hope that Lily would see - wishful thinking, as she was right on the other side of the platform - but it was a nice gesture all the same. The boy, scared by the four imposing seventh years who all had their eyes fixed on him, muttered an embarrassed word of thanks and disappeared into the crowd.

About twenty minutes later, as we watched the long line of first years being sorted into houses, I suddenly couldn't believe how quickly time had gone by. It seemed such a short time ago that I had been sitting up at the front of the Great Hall myself, waiting for the shabby, patched hat to be placed on my head. I remembered my nervousness as I realised the hat knew what I was, my relief when I was placed in Gryffindor, my uncertainty as I tried to make new friends. I could never have imagined, at the time, just how amazing the next seven years would be. A great feeling of nostalgia washed over me, and I wished for a moment that I was one of the new students being sorted, with my years at Hogwarts still stretching before me.

"I bet he's sorted into Slytherin, then you'll wish you'd left him on the floor," Sirius whispered to James, and I looked up in time to see the boy James had helped earlier sitting on the chair as the sorting hat fell over his eyes.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted after a moments pause, and the boy tripped over his robes again in his hurry to take his seat at his new house table.

The last two to be sorted were both placed in Griffindor, and it was only after they had joined our table and plates of food had materialised all around us that I realised just how hungry I was. Throughout the feast, James seemed unable to prevent himself from shooting frequent glances at Lily, who was sitting a few places away from him. She did her best not to look at him, but occasionally her eyes met his, and although her expression remained stony while he held her gaze, I saw it soften when James had averted his eyes.


	10. James's Triumph

Disclaimer and summary in previous chapters.

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**Chapter Ten: James's Triumph**

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It took us all several days to get back into the Hogwarts routine, and become accustomed to going to lessons, working in the library and having meals in the great hall, not to mention getting up at a reasonably time, which we had been incapable of doing throughout the summer holidays. The workload was increasing by the day now that we were in NEWT year, every teacher impressing on us time and time again the importance of hard work and concentration if we wanted to achieve good results in our end of year exams. I had taken five subjects through to NEWT level, as had Sirius and James, but Peter was only working for four. Even then he struggled, and as always, James and Sirius had to help him as much as possible. I sometimes wondered how Peter was going to manage when he got a job, and no longer had his friends by his side to constantly check that his work was word perfect. Peter was terrified about the exams, and I couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive myself, even though my marks so far were perfectly respectable. Only James and Sirius remained supremely unconcerned, skating through everything as they usually did and somehow recieving top marks anyway.

In spite of the ever-increasing workload, my three friends and I managed to have as much fun as we always had done. As James and Sirius had promised, our full moon adventures continued, although James was now much more careful, and much less prepared to take unnecessary risks.

"Right," he said in a low voice, the night before the first full moon of the term. "We'll play it safe this first time I think. After what happened last time I don't think we should be taking any chances. We-" he broke off, looking round. Lily had just walked by, and she froze when she heard what we were talking about.

"You're still sneaking out then," she said. It was a statement, not a question. Her voice was quite even and controlled, but I thought I could detect a hint of some suppressed emotion. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes darted nervously from James to me, and back again.

James looked at her nervously, obviously wondering how to interpret these outward signs of emotion.

"Look," she said, lowering her voice as a couple of younger students walked past. "I'm not going to tell anyone, you should know that by now. I'm not even going to tell you not to do it. Not that it would make anyimpression on you if I did. But for Merlin's sake _be careful_!" She seemed to be talking to James more that anyone else.

"I'm always careful," he said with a careless wave of his hand.

Lily glared at him. "If there's one thing you're _not_, it's careful, James Potter," she said. "And for your information, at the end of last year you nearly scared me to death." I remembered her red eyes the night that had so closely ended in disaster, and realised that the emotion in her voice was probably due to fear. She was worried that we would get hurt. Or killed.

James looked at her and ran his hand through his hair. "Look Lily, we will be careful, you really don't need to worry," he said seriously. "Although," he added cheekily, unable to stop himself, "it's nice to here that you care about me after all."

Lily looked ready to explode, but she didn't say another word. She just shook her head and marched off towards the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

Sirius looked curiously at James. "I thought you didn't want to blow it," he said.

"I didn't," James said shortly. "And I haven't. But I could do without the danger lecture right this minute. I'm perfectly aware of what could happen if we're not careful. Right, as I was saying, we'll play it safe. We won't go near Hogsmeade. If we stay in the forest, well away from the castle, it's probably best. After all, we've never really explored the forest properly, and to be honest we know almost every square inch of Hogsmeade by now anyway."

That was perfectly true. We had always thought it more worthwhile to explore the village and the castle grounds. There had never seemed to be much point in straying into the forest. But, the more we thought about it, the more we thought that it would be interesting to explore its hidden depths. Peter gave a nervous little squeak at the suggestion, but as Sirius and I were nodding in agreement, he raised no objection. So, that evening, I headed down to the hospital wing as usual, and my three friends waited impatiently in the common room until it was safe to sneak out and begin our first night time adventure of that year.

"Well, I think that went pretty well," James said enthusiastically, the next day. He was in a good mood because, having expected Lily to give him the cold shoulder for his words to her the day before, he had been pleasantly surprised when she had greeted him warmly that morning. I suspected she was immensely relieved to see us all alive and unharmed.

We agreed that it had gone well, and even decided that it would be a good idea to stay in the forest at the full moon from then on. Somehow it did not seem such a serious breach of the rules, as the four of us were convinced it would be safer than roaming around the grounds or the village. Looking back, I can see that this particular brand of reasoning was not entirely correct. It was true that we were less of a danger to other humans, but when, in later years, I heard the rumours about what dwells in the forest that borders Hogwarts, I realised that we were very lucky to still be alive.

***

One wet and windy afternoon, about six weeks after the start of term, we entered the common room after lunch, and saw that most of the third years were clustered round the notice board, chattering in excited voices. "Must be the first Hogsmeade visit soon" I said, remembering my own excitement the first time we had been alowed to go to the nearby village. Now we had been there so many times that the excitement of an all-school Hogsmeade visit had worn off, and in any case, we were now so familiar with the secret passages that led into Hogsmeade that we could technically go there whenever we wanted. The Halloween visit _was_ always a particularly enjoyable one though, especially as there was the feast to look forward to afterwards.

"Hogsmeade," James said slowly. He was looking thoughtfully across the common room. Following his gaze, I saw Lily sitting alone by the fire, gazing into it, her expression unfathomable. James hesitated, and then cautiously approached her. I had a strong suspicion that I knew what he was about to do.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, shook his head, and headed towards an empty armchair on the other side of the room, Peter and I following. Peter and I began to talk about our Transfiguration essay, which neither of us had started, but Sirius was looking in the other direction, and I could tell that he was trying to hear what was going on between James and Lily. This was proving impossible, because the common room was particularly crowded and noisy after lunch, and eventually Sirius gave up. "Someone should invent extendable ears or something," he muttered crossly, folding his arms and hunching in his chair. He refused to join in our conversation, and when James came back to us a little while later, he pounced on him immediately. "What was that about?" he said abruptly, but James just smiled serenely and shook his head.

That afternoon I decided to go to the library. James and Sirius both had Quidditch practice and Peter, as he always did, was going to watch, but sitting out in the stands in the pouring rain and ferocious wind was not really my idea of fun, and given that I still had several essays to finish (and in some cases, to start), I decided that now would be the perfect opportunity to do so, so I gathered up my books and headed of to the library.

Lily was sitting in the library, quite alone. She had just finished writing and as I approached she lay down her quill and rolled up her many pages of parchment.

"Is that your Transfiguration essay?" I asked in some astonishment. We were all used to her writing several feet more than what was considered average, but this seemed to surpass even her normal standards.

"No," she said, with a small smile. "It's a letter to my sister." I nodded, although her reply, if anything, heightened my confusion. The letter seemed to consist of four rolls of parchment, front and back, and I was sure I had heard her say in the past that she didn't get on with her sister, and that therefore their communication while she was at school was very limited.

Lily looked worried so I didn't persist, but after a moment she began to explain. "We don't get on, we never have. Not since I started Hogwarts, anyway. She's not magical at all and she's always said it was for freaks, although I think she really wishes she was here too." Lily sighed sadly. "And this summer when I found out that I was going to be Head girl it was the last straw. My parents made quite a big thing of it, you see, and I think she was feeling left out. She and I had a huge row. Well…that's nothing new, we're always arguing, but this time mum and dad kind of took my side, and told her that she could at least be pleased for me. I'm sure they were trying to smooth things over between us, but she reacted like we were ganging up on her or something, and it made her even more furious. She moved in with her boyfriend two days later and I - " her voice shook slightly. "- I haven't seen her or spoken to her since I received my Hogwarts letter." She looked down at the rolls of parchment in her hand, and for a minute she looked on the verge of tears. "This is the third letter I've written to her since the start of term. I don't think she reads them though. Even if she does, she doesn't reply."

I looked at her sympathetically. She groaned softly and put her face in her hands. "Everything's suddenly so complicated," she said despairingly, "what with this…the amount of work we've all got at the moment…having to worry about Head Girl duties, and career options…and then there's James-" She broke off. I had the impression she was stealing herself to say something.

After a moment of hesitation she said, "Remus, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I replied, a little surprised.

"It's about James," she went on, and I nodded slowly, wondering if this had anything to do with her and James's conversation earlier that day.

"I wanted to ask you," she said haltingly, "whether…erm-" she was struggling for words, and took a deep breath and tried again.

"James asked me out," she said finally.

"Well, that's nothing new, is it?" I said with smile.

"No," she admitted. "But the thing is… before today… I've always been able to say no."

"You've been able to say a bit more than no, if I remember correctly," I said, grinning, as a few particularly heartfelt putdowns of Lily's echoed in my memory.

She smiled vaguely and gazed up at the high ceiling of the library.

"So I'm guessing that this time you couldn't say no?" I prompted her, sure I knew what she wanted to know, but waiting nevertheless until she managed to put it into words.

She nodded. "Part of me still wanted to refuse… but… he seems to have changed, grown up…oh, I don't know," she said in despair. "I said I'd think about it, because I still feel worried about saying yes, and I don't even know why anymore."

I looked at her in silence, wondering if she was telling me this just to get it off her mind, or whether she actually wanted my advice. Deciding that James would probably never forgive me if he knew that I had had an opportunity to persuade her to go out with him and hadn't acted on it, I threw caution to the winds.

"Look," I said, "you must know that James is crazy about you. He always has been, ever since our very first night here at Hogwarts." With a smile I remembered an eleven-year-old James Potter grinning appreciatively at the lively redhead seated just a few seats away from him.

"And I know that he sometimes goes a bit far," I continued. "And he tends to lose his head a bit. And he doesn't really take everything seriously…" Lily acknowledged this with a twitch of her head.

"But if there's one thing that he _is_ serious about," I persisted. "It's you. And look, I know you've always had a pretty poor opinion of him, but underneath he's a fantastic person. He's brave, he's fun, and if he cares about someone, he really will do anything for them. I've got to know him pretty well over the years, and he's been an amazing friend."

Lily nodded, bighting her lip.

"I know he's brave," she said. "You don't need to tell me that. Too brave, if anything. And yes, some of the things he does _are_ amusing, even though I've always pretended to disapprove. And I can see he's loyal. To be honest, until last year, I always thought of him as just an arrogant show off, who maybe cared about his friends, but couldn't deflate his head. I thought wanted to go out with me just to prove that he could get anyone he liked. But I don't think that, not any more."

She looked at me sharply. "I needed advice," she said, "and it's no use asking my own friends. They all think I should have gone out with him ages ago. Most of them would give their wand arm to be James Potter's girlfriend. I needed to ask someone else, who I know I can trust, but who knows James well enough to tell me honestly what he thinks about me."

I nodded, surprised but also grateful that she obviously trusted my opinion enough to talk to me about this.

"But don't tell the others," she added, looking at me beseechingly. "Please don't, especially not Sirius and Peter. They wouldn't understand."

"Lily, you've kept my secret for years" I said with a laugh. "And I'll never be able to show you just how much I appreciate that. So if you want this to stay between us, then it will."

Lily grinned at me gratefully. "I'll tell James later that I'll go into Hogsmeade with him," she said decisively, collecting up her things. "I just hope Mary doesn't mind, we usually go together." She finished stuffing books into her bag, then paused and looked at me thoughtfully.

"Remus," she said slowly. "You haven't got a girlfriend, have you?"

I felt myself going red, feeling stupid. I shook my head. "Why?" I asked, somewhat suspiciously. Lily hesitated. "Oh, nothing" she said casually, shaking her head and swinging her bag onto her shoulder. I felt even more suspicious but Lily did not elaborate on the subject. "Thanks for the advice, Remus."

"You're…welcome" I replied distractedly, suddenly lost in thought. Lily's last question had unnerved me a bit, although I was used to people questioning me on my (virtually nonexistent) love life. Most people seemed surprised that I was still single, and several had even admitted to me that they could not see any reason why that should be the case. I refrained from telling people the real reason, and whenever a conversation on this particular subject sprang up, I generally just smiled awkwardly and changed the subject as fast as I could.

It was true that I didn't have a girlfriend, and I never had done, unless you counted the two times I had been into Hogsmeade with Helen Cooper, a Hufflepuff girl who often worked with us in Herbology. I had gone out with her twice in our sixth year, mainly on my friends' encouragement, but it had to be said that neither outing had been highly successful. The first time had been towards the end of January, on a day that was so cold and snowy that half the students had preferred to stay by the fire in their common rooms. We'd walked to Hogsmeade in a raging blizzard, and by the time we had reached the magical village, had been so cold and wet that we had not had the heart to do anything other than go to the Three Broomsticks, drink a couple of bottles of Butterbeer and return to the castle.

We had tried going out again, this time on Valentines Day. Helen had taken me to Madame Puddifoots, a tiny cramped little café that I had never been to before, and would hopefully never go to again. We'd sat down at a table and ordered our drinks, and then sat in awkward silence. I had found the cramped atmosphere in the café highly unnerving, and had been even more stuck that usual for something to say. After several moments of silence Helen had leaned towards me, presumably to kiss me, and I had jerked my head back slightly without quite knowing what I was doing. I hadn't really meant anything by it, I had just been caught unawares, but Helen went bright red and looked mortified. She too pulled back very suddenly, knocking steaming cup of coffee Madame Puddifoot had just placed on our table into my lap as she did so.

Needless to say, we had both been deeply embarrassed after this incident, and had returned to school immediately without so much as a word to each other. When I told my friends what had happened, they had all howled with laughter. "So it was what you might call a hot date then?" Sirius said, when he could draw breath. James rolled his eyes at Sirius's feeble joke, but he too was unable to speak for laughing. Even Peter was laughing loudly, which I thought was a bit unfair, given that he had never been out with anyone in his life. Even though all three of them insisted that it was nothing, and that there were far worse things that could happen, and that I shouldn't let something silly like that put me off, I was too embarrassed to go out with Helen again. She also avoided me from then on, and that concluded my one and only experience with a girl throughout my entire first six years at Hogwarts.

Back in the library, I suddenly remembered why I had come there in the first place. My conversation with Lily had put all thoughts of work out of my mind, but I suddenly caught sight of the clock on the library wall, and realised that if I wasn't careful, I wouldn't finish the work I had wanted to do before supper. With a sigh, I pulled out my book, quill and parchment, and got to work.

A few hours later, when I entered the common room, it was practically deserted. Most people had already gone down to supper. Sirius and Peter were nowhere to be seen, but James stood in one corner talking to Lily. He was still in his Quidditch robes and decidedly wet and muddy. He must have just come in from practice. I kept my distance, not wanting to disturb them, but the room was so quiet that snippets of their conversation came floating to my ears.

"…decided…like to go…"

"I take it the giant squid wasn't available then?"

Lily's voice rose. "Don't push it James Potter," she said, giving him a light punch on the arm, but she was laughing all the same.

I smiled to myself, pleased that everything appeared to be going well. I was so lost in thought that I only noticed Mary when she was right next to me. "Hi Remus," she said, sinking into the armchair next to mine.

"Oh, hi!" I said, smiling at her.

She looked over at Lily and James, who were now laughing together. "She said yes, then?" she enquired with a smile, and I nodded.

"I guess Lily won't be able to go with me into Hogsmeade then," she murmured. "I- I don't suppose you want to come with me, do you?"

She had sounded casual, but as I looked at her I saw that she had gone scarlet. Her large dark brown eyes were darting nervously around the room as she waited for my reply.

I was caught off guard, not really knowing what to say.

"I...um...I -" What _could_ I say? I liked Mary. She was Lily's best friend, so I had got to know her pretty well in recent years. But, as usual, my awkwardness around girls left me floundering for a suitable reply.

"It's ok if you don't" she said hurriedly, sensing my hesitation. "I was just wondering..."

"No!" I said hastily, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "No, I- I'd like to…"

She smiled. "Well, great," she said, her cheeks still tinged with pink. "I-I'll look forward to it." She got to her feet and made for the portrait hole as James, who had just finished talking to Lily, came over. "I'll just change and then we'll head down to supper," he said, still grinning broadly. "Sirius and Peter will have probably finished by now."

I nodded distractedly. Mary had left the common room now, and Lily was about to follow when I stopped her.

"I don't suppose Mary asking me to go to Hogsmeade with her has anything to do with you?" I said innocently.

"What makes you think that?" she inquired, equally innocently, her green eyes widening slightly.

"Well…I don't know," I couldn't help smiling. "It just seems a little strange that your best friend asks me out just a couple of hours after I told you that I don't have a girlfriend..."

Lily smiled sheepishly.

"Well…yeah, I might have had a bit to do with it. Mary was going on about you a bit the other day, saying how nice you were and everything, and I just thought…maybe…if she and you went out together…you know… Oh come on Remus, why not?"

"Well I've already said I would," I admitted, "although…" I added wryly, "I can think of plenty of reasons "why not"". Lily looked at me questioningly, and when I spread my hands as if to indicate the obvious, and she shook her head and said briskly, "Don't be ridiculous Remus, that doesn't mean anything. You have no less reason to have a girlfriend than anyone else does."

I went red. That wasn't strictly true and I think we both knew it, but still, Lily's words had warmed me, and I suddenly felt more confident about going out with Mary that Halloween. "Thanks," I said awkwardly, and Lily laughed. "You're welcome," she said, and we left it at that.

I never told anyone the conversation I had held with Lily in the library that day, but it meant a great deal to me that Lily trusted my opinion enough to ask it. And occasionally, I like to feel that I maybe played a small part in her and James's relationship. Of course, I have no doubt that James's persistence would have paid off eventually and he would have won Lily round without any help at all, but it was a nice thought nevertheless.

***

Halloween seemed to come much too quickly for me, although I'm sure that for James it seemed like years. I still didn't feel entirely comfortable about going out with Mary. It wasn't that I didn't like her. It was difficult not to like her, because although she appeared quite shy and reserved on the outside, she was one of the sweetest and kindest people I'd ever met. But I had never really thought of her as anything other than a friend, nor had I ever been all that comfortable around girls in general. I had never been able to flirt innocently like Sirius did, or talk to them in the confident way James did. I was often stuck for something to say in their company, and I wasn't sure that I would find things any easier with Mary.

And then there was my "furry little problem" as James had started calling it. It was all very well Lily saying that I had as much reason to have a girlfriend as anyone else, but it wasn't really true. I couldn't imagine anyone still wanting to go out with me if they discovered what I really was. People might like the Remus they thought they knew, but if they found out about the hideous creature I transformed into every month, I had no doubt that their feelings would change immediately to disgust.

On October 31st, James took about an hour to get ready for his date with Lily.

"Anyone would think you were a girl, for heavens sake," Sirius said irritably. He himself had got dressed in five minutes and was now sitting on the edge of his bed, watching as James tried on different outfits. Currently single, despite numerous opportunities, he had been a little put out to discover that he would have to spend the day alone with Peter. Although we had nothing but affection for our smaller friend, he _could_ be a little tiresome at times, and it was always much more fun when we were together.

James did not take any notice of Sirius. "I think I'll wear the blue shirt," he murmured, and to my amusement and Sirius's despair, he put on an outfit he had discarded about half an hour ago.

It may have taken him a while, but when he had finished, James was looking smarter than I have ever seen him. His hair had been brushed into submission, although I was certain that at some point during the day he would mess it up again. He was wearing a shirt I had never seen before, and his trousers were unusually clean and free of creases. Sirius, looking him up and down, said, "You finished? Or would you like me to paint your nails for you as well?"

James ignored him, picked up his wand and his cloak in a dignified sort of way, and set off out of the dormitory and down the stairs.

Lily was waiting for him in the entrance hall, looking very pretty. Her hair was bouncing round her shoulders as it always did and she was wearing a green jumper that matched her eyes. She smiled at James, before turning to me and saying, "Mary's just coming."

"Right" I said, my insides suddenly squirming with nerves. James went off with Lily. Sirius winked at me, said brightly, "Have fun!" and he and Peter followed the crowds now moving towards the big front doors.

Mary appeared moments later, slightly out of breath. "Sorry," she said, "I had to go back for something."

"That's ok," I murmured, smiling at her. She too, was looking pretty. Her dark blond hair, which she usually wore tied up, was loose around her shoulders and her eyes were sparkling. She grinned at me, and I suddenly felt less nervous, sure that whatever happened, we would have fun that day.

We walked side by side as we set off towards Hosmeade. I was relieved about one thing. It wasn't nearly as difficult to talk to her as I had feared it would be. At first our conversation seemed a little superficial, and there were a couple of moments when we both lapsed into an awkward silence, but we managed to keep up a steady flow of conversation most of the time and soon I was chattering and laughing with her in the same way I talked to Sirius or James.

We walked round the shops, but it was so crowded that we could hardly move, and in the end we decided to head for the Three Broomsticks and get a drink.

"You know, I've wanted to ask you out for a while," Mary said, as we got our drinks and sat down at a table by the window. I smiled, a little awkwardly, wondering how you were supposed to reply to something like that. I took a gulp of Butterbeer and, not finding anything else to say, said, "You have?"

Mary nodded. "Yeah," she said, smiling shyly. "I just wasn't sure…you know…" she shrugged, and I suddenly suspected that she had been as nervous as I had about our date, a thought that was somehow reassuring.

"Maybe…maybe we could do it again sometime?" I said, surprising myself with my forwardness. Mary grinned, "That would be great… I have a feeling Lily will be occupied for a while anyway."

"What makes you say that?" I asked. She made a slight indication to show that she was looking at something over my shoulder, and turning round to look through the dusty window, I saw James sitting with Lily on the stone bench opposite the Three Broomsticks. They were both holding bottles of Butterbeer, and had evidently preferred to have their drinks outside rather than in the crowded pub.

As I watched them, I suddenly felt a lump rise in my throat. Neither of them appeared to be saying much, but they looked so happy and peaceful together. James had his arm around her, and her bright head was resting on his shoulder as they watched the passers by. James murmured something and Lily laughed, her bright eyes lighting up, and after a few minutes the two of them got to their feet, and headed up the high street, hand in hand.

"Come on," Mary said, tearing her gaze away from them as we finished our drinks. "Let's go to Honeydukes, it was so packed earlier we couldn't even get in the door."

Mary and I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting under a tree in a field just outside Hogsmeade, lazing in the Autumn sunlight, chatting, sharing sweets, and laughing at the effects of a new limited edition type of chocolate we had both bought, which caused the eaters hair and eyes to flash different colours. When we returned to Hogwarts several hours later, I was feeling happy, elated even. The date, if you could call it that, had gone much better than I'd expected it to, and we had had an immensely enjoyable afternoon. I did have a feeling, though, that our relationship was quite along way from being romantic. I didn't voice this thought, as I was hardly an expert in such matters, and thought that things like that probably developed over time, but something in the back of my mind did tell me that Mary and I were never going to be anything more than just good friends. She may well have been of the same mind. In any case, she did not try to initiate anything, and made no attempt to steer the conversation away from our general chatter about our friends, Quidditch, and schoolwork. I was relieved about this more than anything else, because I still wasn't sure that would ever consider Mary as anything more than a friend, and I certainly didn't want to create any tension between us at that point.

On the way back, Mary joined up with Lily, presumably to ask her how things had gone with James, and James in turn came and walked beside me. Sirius and Peter must have gone back early, because there was no sign of them. I didn't need to ask James how it had gone. A broad smile was stretching from ear to ear. Almost at once, he launched into a long account of his day. He and Lily had wandered round the shops, gone for drinks, talked non-stop about pretty much everything. She had laughed at all his jokes, had not once insulted him, and had appreciated his new grown up and mature behaviour, or at least, he hoped she had. At the end of the afternoon, they had taken a walk up in the woods that boarded the village, before heading off by themselves to a secluded spot in one of the fields and - "Well, anyway you get the picture," James concluded, sweeping his hair back with his hand and grinning at me wickedly. "What about you?" he added, suddenly remembering. "How was your date?"

I told him about my own day, confessing that although I had thoroughly enjoyed myself, I wasn't really sure you could call it a date. James listened closely, then shrugged and said, "You're right, it might come with time. Just see how it goes." Heartened by this advice, I smiled, and the two of us walked back up to school in silence, James no doubt too immersed in his thoughts about Lily to want to continue talking.

"How did it go?" Sirius asked at once, as we entered the common room. He and Peter were sitting at a table playing Chess, but by the looks of things, Peter was winning, so I gathered that Sirius had not been paying any attention whatsoever to the game and had just been trying to pass the time until we came back.

"Fine," I said, smiling.

Sirius nodded at me and then turned to James. "And what about you? Did everything go as planned?"

James didn't answer, just lowered himself into the chair next to Sirius. Then his head turned towards the portrait hole as Lily entered the common room. She beamed at James and waved, before heading up to her dormitory to change for supper. James watched her go, his face split the same wide smile he had worn on our way back from Hogsmeade.

Sirius rolled his eyes and looked back at the table just as Peter wiped his last Chessman off the board. "I'll take that as a yes then," he said, his face breaking into a smile.

* * *

Please read and review x


	11. Make Outs and Break Ups

a/n Please read and review.

With every week that passed, Lily and James spent more time together and James was ecstatic now that he had finally had got what he wanted. All those months and years of persistent trying had finally paid off, and I honestly had never seen anyone so permanently and deliriously happy. As for us, we could all see that they were very well suited to one another, regardless of what Lily may have thought in previous years, in spite Sirius's constant moans that James was becoming "soppy and sentimental", and that he never saw him anymore. Happy as he was for James, Sirius couldn't help but occasionally show his indignation that he no longer seemed to be James's favourite companion, and none of us could help but notice that the more time James spent with Lily, the nicer he seemed to become, and the less irritated he seemed to make her. They still had their spats, of course, and at first it wasn't at all uncommon to see Lily scowling across the common room because of something immature or stupid James had said or done. But, as time went on, these moments became fewer and further between, and we were far more likely to walk in on them kissing in an abandoned classroom than to see them fighting, which was what Sirius and I had the misfortune of doing a week before the Christmas holidays, looking for an empty space to "practice some spells," which was Sirius's code for "plan a lot of mischief". In spite of his coming of age, Sirius, unlike James, did not seem to be showing any signs of maturity. Indeed, with his partner in crime now so regularly absent, Sirius was doubling his efforts to cause trouble, and for every day that James grew a little more mature, Sirius grew a little more restless and bored. He looked forward to the full moons more than any of us, mainly because these were now some of the few moments when James would agree to breaking rules, and to let out some of his pent up frustration Sirius would spend a great deal of time discussing our forthcoming adventures with me at great length.

It was it was just the two of us, Peter having insisted on staying in the library to revise, when we opened the door to the History of Magic classroom one evening, intending to discuss the coming full moon, only to find Lily and James locked in a tight embrace and looking far too occupied to want to have anything to do with what Sirius and I were planning. Had it been me on my own I would have simply walked out and left them to it. Sirius however, had other ideas, and gave a loud wolf whistle that made them jump hurriedly apart and look round at the two of us standing in the doorway, their faces turning from embarrassment to annoyance when they saw who had just interrupted them. "Oh it's you," said James. "Would you mind leaving us in peace?"

"It's hardly peaceful what you're going to be doing!" muttered Sirius, "and can't you come with us for a bit? I've hardly seen you recently and we want to talk about err- stuff."

"I'm a bit busy," said James pointedly, clearly just wanting Sirius to get out and leave him and Lily alone. "We can talk later. Why don't you ask Peter?"

"He's buried in a mountain of work at the library," Sirius replied with a scowl. "And he's no fun at the moment, all stressed about his NEWTS. He's such a worrier, they're not for months, and it's such a piece of cake anyway! I could practically do them in my sleep."

Lily, who had been watching calmly, suddenly exploded. Her eyes flashed as she glared at Sirius and said angrily; "Just get out Sirius! Just because you find everything incredibly easy and can do everything perfectly doesn't mean we all can! You could at least help Peter if you've done all your work in two seconds. He was looking really worried when I last saw him!"

Sirius's eyes widened, not used to being the prime target of Lily's temper, a position that had previously been reserved for James. "Ok chill out!" he said, then turned to me and muttered in an undertone which was unfortunately loud enough for Lily to hear. "I suppose we'd better leave them to get back to snogging, it's supposedly good stress relief! Some of us apparently need it"

For someone who could easily be top of the year when he felt like it, Sirius could be incredibly stupid at times. As he turned away, a furious Lily sent a spell flying through the air, directly at Sirius's hair. The jet of yellow light hit the back of his head, and I saw a look of satisfaction cross Lily's face as a noticeably bump appeared under his sleek black hair and Sirius gave a cry of pain. Behind the triumphant look however, I thought I saw a sparkle in her eyes which wasn't caused by fury or the reflection of the yellow sparks, and her voice trembled with something other than anger as she told Sirius again to get out and leave them alone. This time, Sirius quickly obeyed without a word. I gave Lily and apologetic look and raised my eyebrows at James, and then followed him.

"What's got into everyone?" Sirius said afterwards, rubbing the back of his head. "Seriously, this really hurts!"

"Well, you really should have learnt by now that annoying Lily never ends well," I said, repressing a laugh. "And she's right you know. It is infuriating that you find everything so easy, so you could at least shut up about it!"

I felt a slight satisfaction at Sirius's contrite look he had the grace to mutter an apology. Finally, after seven years, my comments were occasionally getting through to him. He compromised by grumbling as we made our way back to the dormitory. "I never see him anymore! He's always with Lily. And since when did she get so wound up about everything?"

"I think she was upset about something else," I mused, thinking back to Lily's distressed face. She had been forced to endure Sirius's gloating about how easy work was for many years now, just like the rest of us. I was sure that there was something else bothering her. "She wasn't looking to happy in class this morning." I made a mental note to talk to her the next time I could get her away from James, who, for all his recent improvements in behavior, was still at the stage where kissing was far more interesting than talking, and I had a feeling that after we'd left the room he would not have thought to ask Lily if there was anything else wrong, but would have just picked up where they were before we interrupted.

Sirius was still moaning about not seeing James. "You could just get a girlfriend too," I reminded him. "You're hardly short of offers. And I'm sorry I'm such poor company," I added jokingly.

"You know that's not what I mean, and for you information I had a date last week," Sirius retorted. "And one the week before. And I'm going out tomorrow with that girl I went out with back in November! Tabitha, I think?"

"You mean Catherine?" I corrected him. "And really? You're going out with her again? Getting serious and ready to settle down maybe!"

Sirius snorted. "Not likely," he said. "Why would I want to? Why go for the long term deal when you can get an infinite number of free samples? That's my motto."

"Yes, I know," I smiled, suddenly wondering what it must be like to be Sirius, to have a constant string of girls desperate to go out with him, to find everything in life so completely and utterly easy and to never seem to put a foot wrong. Sirius had a strange ability to just not bother about the things that most of us deemed essential to do, and most of the time everything would work out fine for him, something I couldn't help but be envious of. However much I was enjoying life, it had to be said that it didn't fall into place around me, the way Sirius's did. We walked in silence back to the common room, and sat in the nearest armchairs we could find. Sirius had finally stopped muttering under his breath and I was completely lost in thought when James came back to the common room an hour later without Lily. "Is she ok?" Sirius asked, looking a little guilty, clearly ashamed of his earlier comments. "Yeah of course," James said, looking surprised. "She just went to get some books from the library and she said she had a letter to send. Why wouldn't she be?" he grinned at the two of us wickedly. "Trust me Sirius, we didn't give you much thought after you'd left. Well, I certainly hope we didn't!"

I thought back to the tears I thought I'd seen in Lily's eyes and wondered if I had been right. Had she been upset about something else or had Sirius just gone one step too far again? James went upstairs to change and Sirius followed, but I stayed sitting and after a while Lily came through the portrait hole. She looked slightly pale and tired but smiled at me as she walked across to our corner of the room and sat down in the chair next to me.

"Are you alright?" I asked. She nodded, then shrugged, then shook her head and I was startled to see big tears appear in her green eyes. She turned away in embarrassment and I tentatively touched her on the shoulder.

"Come on, don't cry." I said, suddenly regretting not going upstairs with the others. "Do you want me to get James?" She shook her head and buried her head in her hands as a muffled sob escaped her.

A few second year girls were gawking at us from a sofa nearby. Lily Evans, the famous head girl, losing her composure was a rare occurrence, and I felt awkward with them staring at us both.

"Do you want to talk?" I offered weakly, sure that she would just shake her head and go upstairs, but to my surprise and slight unease she nodded. "Not here though," she said, drying her eyes with a loud sniff, then staring round at the girls now looking at both of us, all of whom buried themselves in their workbooks at once with pink cheeks. "Can we go somewhere else?"

We walked out of the common room and down the corridor to a small room that we'd occasionally use to practice jinxes in. Lily sat down at the nearest desk and stared blankly into space. I hovered next to her awkwardly.

"Is it James?" I said at last, breaking the silence, suddenly terrified that Lily wasn't happy being with him; that I had given her bad advice before, and that I would now have an unhappy Lily and a distraught James to deal with. But Lily was shaking her head. "No, no, it's nothing to do with James, everything's going really well actually on that front. It's Petunia-" She broke off.

"Your sister?" I said, remembering the conversation we'd had in the library a few months before. Lily nodded and then to my distress she suddenly started sobbing. At a loss, I went to her and put an arm around her, not knowing what else to do or say. Part of me felt guilty. It felt like a betrayal to James to be so close to his girlfriend when she was this upset. Another part of me felt incredibly uncomfortable. I had no idea what to say to girls in general, let alone when they were upset and emotional. But this wasn't just any girl. It was Lily; she was my friend; my best friend's girlfriend and she'd wanted to talk and I knew I had to comfort her, so I let cry until she dried her eyes, drew back a little, and started to explain.

"She's getting married," Lily began quietly, and sadly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Well, isn't that a good thing?" I asked, rather surprised at her reaction. "I remember you saying you didn't like her boyfriend, but if she's happy-"

Lily shook her head again, a couple more stray tears running down her cheeks. "No, no it's not that. She- she doesn't want me at the wedding."

I gaped at her, astonished. Lily had told me that Petunia resented Lily for being magical, and for getting attention, but to dislike her enough to not want her at her own wedding seemed a terribly sad thing.

"I got an owl from Mum the other day," said Lily, "asking whether I had exams on June 18th or whether I'd be able to come home, and saying that she really hoped I didn't because it was such an important day for Petunia. And I didn't know what she was talking about. And then when I'd found out I wrote to Petunia to congratulate her, and I- I got a letter this morning, saying – saying-" she looked like she was going to break down again, but managed to pull herself together and continued, "she doesn't want me at the wedding, she wants me to stay at school and just – just "get on with my freaky life and leave her and Vernon in peace.""

I stared at her stricken face, and suddenly wondered how anybody could dislike her that much, let alone her own sister.

"I just don't know what to do", Lily said desperately, "It's my sister's wedding, I have to be there! Yeah, we've had our fights, but what siblings haven't? I know I love her deep down, and I always thought she felt the same about me. But now I realize that she doesn't."

"Lily," I said softly, "I'm really not good at giving advice, but maybe if you give Petunia some space, and some time, she'll realize that she does want you there really, and that she's being ridiculous. The wedding's not for six months. From what you told me it sounds like she's angry at the moment, and she's feeling resentful, but I'm sure that will pass."

Lily shrugged, "Maybe, it's just so hard. If it was my wedding I'd want her there. She probably wouldn't come but I'd want her to be there all the same."

"I think you should just give it time," I said, trying to be wise but feeling like an idiot. "Maybe write to her and tell her you're happy for her no matter what and then just let her come around on her own."

"She's very stubborn," said Lily morosely. "I think she's scared that if I'm there I'll take all the attention even when the day's about her. But maybe you're right." Suddenly she smiled and gave me a warm hug. "Yes I'm sure you're right! You're a good friend, Remus."

I blushed foolishly, but was warmed by the compliment. "And you are good at giving advice," she said, the broad smile now returned to her face. "That's why I knew it would help if I talked to you. I needed a fresh perspective, and you're good at that!"

"Well, sure, if you're comparing me to Sirius and James," I replied, smiling, thinking how tactless my two friends could be at times.

Lily grinned, "Yeah they can be idiots, especially Sirius, and James wasn't exactly helpful this morning when I told him about Petunia. But still," she was now grinning broadly, "mostly it's going well!"

"You did seem pretty busy earlier," I teased, and she actually laughed. "Something else I have your advice to thank for," she said, with a warm smile, as she got up and we made our way to the door.

James and Sirius were back in the common room, and looked mystified when Lily and I returned together, Lily looking happy in spite of her red eyes. "What were you doing?" James asked.

"Just paying our own visit to the classroom we were in earlier; Remus thought it looked fun," Lily said cheekily, but I gave a sharp nudge with my elbow as James looked murderous. The prospect of losing Lily to another man was not something we should even joke about with James.

"Oh come on, you know I'm joking! I just needed some help with some homework," Lily said, giving me a grateful smile. "Anyway, I'm going to bed. Night." She kissed a confused looking James, waved at Sirius and headed upstairs.

"What were you really doing?" James asked me.

"Nothing!" I protested.

"Oh, don't give me that," James dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "I've come to know when she's not being entirely truthful. And while I don't suspect for a moment that the two of you were snogging on Binn's desk, I also know that you were not helping her with her homework. For one thing she insisted on finishing it earlier, before we could – anyway, never mind, what were you doing?"

I told him how upset Lily had been, and James looked a little sheepish. "Yeah she did mention it to me earlier, but when I gave her my opinion she got angry. What did you tell her to make her so happy?"

"I just told her to back off a little bit, and give it time and that maybe Petunia would come round." I replied.

"That's what I said!" exclaimed James indignantly, "and she got all offended and stormed off! Really, I don't understand girls sometimes!"

"Really, you said that?" I said, doubt in my voice.

"Well, not using those exact words," said James defensively, and I raised an eyebrow. "I said Petunia was an idiot and she was better off without her," he admitted grudgingly, "but it amounts to the same thing." I gave a sigh of despair and James looked guiltily at me. "Ok, point taken, it wasn't the cleverest thing to say. I'll apologise to her in the morning." He groaned and muttered under his breath, "How on earth did you manage to get so tactful with girls!" I noticed Sirius looking slightly shocked at James's forthright comment and James suddenly looked mortified. "I'm sorry Remus, that wasn't supposed to mean anything about you, it really truly wasn't. I just meant that, well, you know, I can be an idiot and – well-"

"How is it with Mary anyway?" Sirius interrupted. "Better change the subject before James's foot gets stuck in his mouth forever!"

I chuckled. "I'm really not tactful with girls," I reassured James. "I felt like such an idiot trying to give her advice! And with Mary it's the same as ever really. We get along, we chat, we have a good time…"

Sirius nodded. "Then you kiss, then you say goodnight!" We all laughed.

It had been the same thing since our date in October. We had continued to see each other occasionally and I really was having fun. She was great company and we liked each other. It wasn't going very far or very fast, and neither of us seemed enveloped by the great passion that Lily and James seemed to be going through, but I was happy, and Mary seemed happy, and that was all that really mattered at that moment, even if it wasn't exactly the romance of the century.

A week later, however, something changed, during an impromptu Christmas party that was thrown in the common room after Sirius and James had sneaked into Hogsmeade through the secret tunnel and returned with a dozen crates of butterbeer and several bottles of firewhisky, put on some music, decorated the whole room with a flick of their wands and encouraged everyone to join in the fun.

Several drinks later I was feeling pretty woozy, when I saw Mary sitting in an armchair on the other side of the common room, and feeling extremely bold, marched over with the intention of asking her to dance. I ended up tripping on an empty butterbeer bottle which someone had left on the floor, which meant that my intended elegant approach ended up a flailing attempt not to fall on top of her. Mary, however, appeared to be in a very similar state to my own, and merely beamed at me. "Remus!" she exclaimed, her voice several pitches higher than normal. "Sit down!" she indicated the arm of the chair, and dropped her drink in the process. I laughed as I retrieved the bottle and cleared up the spilled liquid with my wand. "How many butterbeers have you had?" I asked interestedly.

"I'm not sure," she mused, suddenly staring at the drink very seriously. "Quite a few if you include that one!"

"So I see," I said in amusement, perching myself on the arm of the chair.

"Oh look!" she pointed upwards and I saw, directly above our heads, a little sprig of mistletoe forming in the air. I was quite confused, until I looked round and saw James grinning at me from the other side of the room as he tucked his wand back inside his robes, raised an eyebrow and turned back to his girlfriend. I considered feeling indignant, decided I couldn't be bothered and it would do no good anyway, and then I turned back to Mary, who was still gazing, transfixed, at the mistletoe. "Does this mean we're supposed to kiss?" she asked, turning to me with the serious expression still on her face. "I think it does," I replied solemnly, sinking into the chair beside her, and we spent the next hour or so kissing in the armchair, unaware of what was going on around us.

"You had a good night then?" Sirius said when we'd finally made our way upstairs.

"Pretty good!" I agreed, sinking down onto my bed. "I do like her, you know. She's really sweet and she's fun. It's just- well, you know- I can't exactly be with her properly, not with-" I trailed off.

Sirius looked at me incredulously. "You're not still worried about that?" he said in astonishment.

"Sirius, it's kind of a lifelong thing. It doesn't just go away." I said in frustration. My friends' support had meant everything to me over the last six years, but they still failed to understand how my condition made me feel when it came to my relationships with other people who had no idea what I was.

"I just mean you don't still think that just because you transform into a crazy animal once a month you can't have a proper girlfriend? Because if you do, then that's what's crazy, Remus!" Peter nodded in agreement and James, who'd just walked in and heard the end of the conversation, said "I'm not sure you have a choice in the matter anyway. I've spent the last twenty minutes listening to a slightly drunk Lily and a very drunk Mary ramble on about double dating, so Remus my friend, looks like you're stuck with a girlfriend for the moment whether you think you can have one or not."

I wasn't sure how to take the news. Up until then Mary had been my friend, my date, or even the girl I was going out with, but she had never been my girlfriend. Still, maybe Sirius was right. I knew I wasn't ready to tell her my secret, but there was no reason why we couldn't have a normal relationship for the time being. I said goodbye to her the next morning as she left for the holidays, a warm feeling spreading through me as I thought of seeing her again in two weeks time.

And so, for the few months that followed the Christmas holidays, Mary and I spent quite a lot of time together, studying, going into Hogsmeade, or simply hanging out in the Hogwarts grounds. It was fun, and if it weren't for the somewhat obligatory disappearances every month I have no doubt that our relationship would have lasted a lot longer than it did. But as time went on, she became increasingly suspicious of my absences, my constant visits to the hospital wing, the bruises that I sometimes sustained from the nights of transformation, and although she did not persist, I could tell she was hurt that I was not confiding in her, and that I was so obviously keeping something.

It came to a head one cool afternoon in late early, after we had been taking a walk around the lake, and I mentioned that I had to go and see Madame Pomfrey about something. She suddenly turned to me and said heatedly, "Come on Remus, what's going on? Why all these visits to the hospital wing? Are you ill?"

I stared at her mutely, feeling guilty and sad, but knowing that I couldn't tell her. It wasn't that I was afraid she would tell other people, because she was about as trustworthy as a person could get, but what if she didn't understand? And most of all, how would it affect her feeling for me? I just shrugged and muttered something about it not being important.

Mary looked at me in frustration. "You don't trust me do you?" she said softly, her eyes filled with sadness. Still, I had no idea what to say. I tried to speak but no words left my mouth. She looked into my eyes for a long time, and then said, "I'm not sure this is working, you know." She looked like she was going to add to this, but then she just turned and walked away, leaving me standing by the lake, torn between feelings of guilt and worry, shivering in a sudden cool breeze.

OoOoO

"So why don't you just tell her?" James said that night, after I'd explained the issue to them as we were getting ready to go to bed.

"I can't!" I exclaimed, glaring at James as anger and frustration nearly getting the better of me.

"Why?" James persisted calmly. "You do trust her don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do," I said, forcing myself to calm down. No good could come of me taking this out on my friends. "I know she wouldn't tell anyone, and she might even still like me. But I just don't want her to know. It would change everything between us."

"True, but if you break up because you can't tell her then that changes things too," said James pointedly.

I said nothing else, merely rolled over and pretended to sleep, but I stayed awake for a long time, running things over in my mind.

Mary didn't speak to me all weekend, but on the Monday morning she found me and apologized. "It's none of my business," she said. "And I'm sorry. I just want you to be alright and it makes me sad that you don't trust me."

"Mary, I do trust you," I said desperately. "I really do. This is just different. It's hasn't really got anything to do with trust." I didn't know what else to say and my words sounded feeble. I had a feeling that Mary thought so too, but she shrugged and nodded. "So, are we ok?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes," she said, hugging me. "We're ok."

But somehow, after that, things were never really ok again. Mary knew I was hiding something, I knew she resented the fact that I couldn't tell her, and although we rarely argued, it caused a barrier between us which I'd never noticed before. I felt us growing distant with one another, I was sad because I knew I was losing her, but in spite of this I couldn't bring myself to tell her about being a werewolf. As exams approached, we saw each other less and less, using the pretence of having too much work to do, but deep down I knew that homework was just an excuse, and for about the ten thousandth time I thought bitterly how different my life would be if it hadn't been for one horrible night when I was a boy.

Then one morning, shortly before our exams she came to me looking nervous. "I've had a job offer," she said quietly, indicating a piece of parchment in her hand.

"That's great!" I exclaimed, genuinely happy for her, even though my own search for a job was still proving fruitless. "It's in America," she went on, "working in the international office of their sorcerer's council. It's such a good offer, I can't turn it down."

"Well of course not!" I said. "That's amazing! Well done!"

I gave her a hug, which she returned, but she continued to look serious as she pulled away, and suddenly, before she got the words out, I knew what was coming. "You want to end it don't you?" I said, feeling a dull ache emerge in my chest. Mary looked stricken. "I-I don't know," she said miserably. "Everything's so confusing, and I really don't know what I want right now, but I have thought, recently, that maybe this isn't working. We've hardly spent any time together recently, and now with us finishing school and the war and this job and me going away and-"

I cut her off abruptly with a kiss, and I knew deep down that it would be the last, that things had changed between us and because of my stubbornness I'd lost someone with whom I genuinely could have had a lasting relationship with. "It's fine," I said, feeling anything but fine, as we pulled apart. "I think you're right."

"You do?" Mary seemed quite shocked. I realised how confusing and offensive my seemingly indifferent reaction may have appeared in her eyes, and hastily tried to redeem myself, to assure her of how much she meant to me. "I just mean – well, I do think you're lovely," I said awkwardly, "and I like being with you and we've had a lot of fun, but I don't know what I'm going to do next year, and you've got this incredible opportunity. And you're right. Recently it's been so – well, strained between us. That wouldn't improve with everything that'll be going on when we leave school."

"I know," she murmured. "I think that too. I'm sorry."

"So am I," I said, meaning it from the bottom of my heart, trying to tell her without actually saying the words how bad I felt that I could not bring myself to tell her my biggest secret.

"Friends?" she offered, hesitantly.

"Friends." I agreed, smiling, trying not to let the sadness I felt show on my face. I knew there was nothing more to say. She returned the smile with a tiny twitch of her lips, and we walked in deep silence down to breakfast.

As somber as we both felt, Lily's beaming face when we got down to the great hall lifted our spirits. She had a letter in her hand. "What's that?" I asked, at first a little nervously. Many students were receiving letters of bad news recently, but looking again at Lily's smiling face I guessed it couldn't be that.

"It's a wedding invitation," Lily said, looking absolutely delighted. "From Petunia. And a letter saying she would like me to be there. Mum probably had something to do with that but I can pretend that's not true!"

Mary threw an arm around her, and smiled at me across the table, all sadness or bitterness forgotten in Lily's happiness. James leaned over to kiss her cheek, and Sirius and Peter grinned happily at her. Suddenly, just for a second, I forgot about everything; the war, my condition, my break up with Mary. Our group of friends suddenly seemed to bask in Lily's happy smile, and that moment, however brief it may have been, marks a moment in my life where everything seemed in its rightful place, in spite of everything that was going on outside the walls of the school, and the darkness that was just around the corner.


	12. The Approach of Darkness

**a/n Please read and review x**

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Good moments like that morning became rare in the weeks that followed. Exams were soon upon us and everyone in our year was either sat in silence in front of their books all day, trying to cram as much information as possible into their heads, or else panicking over what spells they had or hadn't yet learnt. Even Sirius had occasionally been spotted with a book open in front of him and Peter appeared almost dead from the pressure. But, relieved as I would be when the exams were over, I couldn't help wanting every day to go by as slowly as possible. Each hour that passed was one step closer to our last day at Hogwarts, and I was dreading that moment.

Things _were_ looking up on the job front. Thanks to Dumbledore pulling a few strings, I had managed to secure a job at the Daily Prophet. It was a very low profile job, working in the back offices, and it was perhaps not my ideal line of work, but it was a job all the same, and it gave me a starting point after I left school. But even in spite of this, I was not looking forward to leaving school. Things in the wizarding world were looking grim, and Voldemort was gaining power by the day now, with more than twenty attacks were being reported each week. Every morning, as the owls soared through the Great Hall, every student would raise a frightened face towards them, hoping against hope that there was nothing for them. In this situation, no news was good news, and when devastating news _was_ brought to a fellow student, the rest of the hall would stare in horrified sympathy as they exited the room with a pale face and downcast eyes, often holding a yellow envelope stamped with the purple ministry of magic seal in their hand. This was the ministry's way of informing people of deaths in their families at the hands of Voldemorts' supporters. It was no doubt an effective way of breaking news, but it had to be said that it added a new dimension of dread to the arrival of the morning post.

As the exams drew to a close, the atmosphere in seventh years relaxed ever so slightly. "Five weeks," said Sirius smiling. "Five weeks to enjoy ourselves, laze around, do whatever we like, before we-"

"Go out into the world and have to face Voldemort," I muttered.

"Stop having such a bleak outlook," Sirius chided. "We'll be fine. We've all got jobs to go to, we know how to defend ourselves. The thing is to stay positive."

"Hmm," I said, unconvinced. Sirius's don't care attitude was worrying at times.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on out there," Sirius said, as if he'd read my thoughts. "Because I do. You don't grow up in family who loves dark magic without realizing the terrible things can be done by wizards who fall to the dark side. But worrying about it really isn't going to help, so let's just enjoy this last month at Hogwarts."

I couldn't help but be uplifted by Sirius's words, but our good spirits lasted for about a week. And then, out of nowhere, our world started crumbling around us.

James was the first to receive bad news. We were having breakfast one morning when a brown owl soared down and dropped a letter in front of him. Sirius, Peter and I all froze, and James went several shades paler than normal. He reached out for the letter and turned it over with a shaking hand, and I felt the knot of anxiety in my chest ease slightly. "It doesn't have a ministry seal," Sirius said quietly. A little of the colour came back to James's face, but he still looked scared. "It's from Mum," he said. He and Sirius exchanged a strange look, a look that held a knowing apprehension as James opened the envelope and scanned the letter with an increasingly grave expression. None of us dared to ask what was wrong. Then, looking distressed, he got up without a word.

Sirius swore under his breath. "I hope things are ok," he said.

"He'd have a Ministry letter if someone had died," Peter said.

"Not necessarily," I replied, my voice strained. "The letter only comes to the student if both parents- " I swallowed. "Maybe we should go find him?"

"It might be better not to just now," said Sirius. "He'll tell us when he's ready."

But when we got back to Gryffindor half an hour later, we found James sitting in a chair, Lily beside him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and James, with a rather dazed expression on his face, answered our unasked questions as soon as we reached him.

"It's my Dad," he said. My heart skipped a beat and Peter and Sirius were very pale. "He's alive," he reassured us. "And it's nothing to do with Voldemort, which is small comfort but I guess it's a comfort all the same." He took a deep breath. "My Dad's very ill. He's been ill for years actually, so has Mum, but you wouldn't really know it. It's an old wizard illness, pretty rare now, which can lie dormant for years and then suddenly become really serious. And that's what's happened. In the last couple of weeks he's suddenly got a lot worse. Ther-" his voice shook. "There's no cure. The Healers have told him four to six months." He closed his eyes to hide the tears as Lily tightened her arms around him, trying in vain to make the pain and sadness disappear.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. Sirius seemed beyond speaking, his own face shadowed with grief. I knew that James's parents meant a lot to him, probably a great deal more than his own family, and the news was a huge shock to him too. We stayed there for a while, trying to let James know how sorry we were. After a while, Lily smiled tightly and made a slight gesture, indicating that we should go, and we left the two of them alone.

"It's horrible," Sirius said quietly, when we'd reached the privacy of the dormitory. Then, in fury, he drove his fist into his pillow. "Why the hell couldn't it have been my parents? Would hardly be a loss!"

My eyes widened. "You don't mean that," I said, trying to calm him down. "You wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"I do," spat Sirius vehemently. "And I would if it meant that better people got to live. It's so unfair! You couldn't find a nicer couple than the Potters. My parents are up to their eyeballs in dark magic and pure blood rubbish and the world would quite frankly be better off without them! They probably wouldn't care if they got some horrible disease. Would just be yet another claim to add to the noble name of Black! Only purebloods can contract the illness James's parents have got," he added, in response to mine and Peter's confused looks.

"You knew then?" I asked, and he nodded. "James told me ages ago, back in second year. It just came up really, it wasn't a secret or anything, but no one really wanted to think about it so we didn't talk about it again. I think it's always been at the back of their minds though. You could tell sometimes, when I stayed with them in the holidays, that they were wondering how long they had left." I thought back to the summer, how much the Potters had doted on James, how they always gave him what he wanted, were never too tired to spend time with him. That must be why, I realised. They knew they only had a limited amount of time to spend with their only son.

Outwardly, James recovered quickly from the shock, and when I talked to him later, he told me that he'd known for a long time that it was a matter of time before he got the news. "They told me about it when I was ten," he said. "I've tried to prepare myself for it, and it wasn't as big a shock as it could have been because I've known for years." He smiled bravely. "He's got a bit of time. We'll just have to make it count!" But we all knew that inwardly, he was very shaken up, and in the days that followed the arrival of the letter he was extremely pale and quiet. The news affected all of us. Lily barely left his side. Sirius, possibly for the first time since I've known him, was incredibly careful about what he said. There were no flippant comments about death, or Voldemort, and he even managed to suppress the anger that he had shown back in the dormitory after James had got the news, for which I was relieved. The last thing James needed to hear right then was Sirius's rant against his own parents and how he wished they were dying instead.

James had barely begun to come to terms with his own tragic news when a devastating blow came for me aswell. And for me it _did_ come in the form of a thick yellow envelope, brought to the breakfast table by a regal looking tawny owl. One look at the envelope in front of me was enough to see the deep purple embossed symbol, no doubt stamped on a few hours previously by a Ministry of Magic official in matching purple robes.

Peters hand flew to his mouth in horror. James's eyes met mine across the table, filled with nothing but pity and compassion. Sirius buried his face in his hands and Lily, who had just sad down, gave a shaky little gasp. "Remus-" she began in a whisper.

I couldn't do this with all my friends watching. With a heavy heart I took the letter and stood up. Eyes seemed to burn into my back and whispers fell on my ears like the sound of hissing snakes as I walked past the tables, into the entrance hall, up the stairs, and finally collapsed on my bed in the dormitory. It took me a quarter of an hour before I could bring myself to open the envelope, even though I knew what it contained. With blurred eyes I scanned the parchment. The letter was brief and perfunctory, and expressed the obligatory condolences, which did not bring a shred of comfort to me. But the message was clear. My parents were dead. Voldemort had attacked their home the night before. The house was destroyed. My parents' names, along with so many others, had been engraved on huge golden board in the Hall of Honour at the ministry, which had been erected the previous year as a tribute to those who had died fighting and an inspiration for those who continued to do so. Viewing times for relatives were written at the bottom of the letter.

Hours later, or maybe days, a noise at the door told me my friends had come to find me. If the envelope hadn't confirmed to them what had happened then one look at my face was enough. I felt James's hand rest on my shoulder, Lily's hand slipping through my own, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Sirius and Peter sitting on the neighboring bed, their faces stricken with sorrow at my loss. Then, for a long time, we just sat in silence. We all knew that there were no words which could help in this situation, nothing that could instantly make the pain disappear, but I appreciated their presence, and tried to draw comfort from the fact that I was still not alone. Even in this desperate time, I held onto the fact that I still had my friends.

That weekend I went to see my house. I didn't know why I was compelled to go anywhere near it, but what I did know was that I never wanted to set foot in the perfectly kept honor hall at the Ministry, with its shining golden board displaying name after name in elegant swirly letters. I knew my father would have put up a fight, and I wanted to see the raw evidence of this. I wanted to appreciate what he had done as an individual trying to defend his family and home, not as a glorified name used alongside hundreds of others as a tool to spur on the wizarding world.

From the outside, the house did not look to bad, but the door was off its hinges and as I walked through the doorway my breath caught in my throat. The house was completely destroyed. Smashed glass and splinters of wood littered the floor and stones crumbled from the walls. Pipes had been burst and the floor was covered in water. At least, I thought with a surge of pride, my father had put up a brilliant fight, no doubt trying to protect my mother, who he loved with all his heart, in spite of the many strains their relationship had had to bear over the years. I thought of my mother, her worn but caring face that had stayed beside me so many times as a child, trying to take away the pain. I thought of my father; telling me about the wizarding world, always trying to protect me, relentlessly doing his duty no matter what it took, and my legs seemed to give way beneath me as I sunk into what remained of an old armchair, put my face in my hands, and let the tears seep through my fingers.

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The last couple of weeks of term were therefore not the gloriously relaxed days that Sirius had predicted, but rather an extremely grim, grief-ridden time. The four of us and Lily became inseparable, determined to be strong for each other as we grew closer than ever before. I found that Mary was also a huge support to me. She came to find me once I'd got back from the house, immediately put her arms around me and told me how sorry she was, and that if I needed to talk she would be there, and to my surprise I found myself talking to her for a very long time. She was sympathetic, and compassionate, and her kindness made me feel even guiltier that I had never been able to bring myself to confide in her about being a werewolf. But that was the way it was, and I knew that although there may have been a moment when I could have told her, and had her understanding and sympathy, that moment had passed now. I had pushed her away, and in spite of the time we spent together after my parents death, I knew that I would never again have a chance to say the unsaid words which might have, at one time, removed the invisible barrier that had come between us. We were too near the parting of our ways which would inevitably be brought about by the end of school. Soon we would both be moving on with our lives, and what had happened between us would be nothing more than a memory which could not be reversed or altered.

A week before the end of term, Dumbledore addressed the whole school. There was no twinkle in his eyes as they searched the hall, taking in every individual expression on every terrified face. "As you know, we are at war." He told us gravely. "Many of you have received terrible news in these last weeks. Many more of you will receive it in the weeks to come. To everyone here who has experienced loss, however great or small, you have my sincerest sympathies. My thoughts are with you and your families at such a terrible time as this.

"War is upon us. It is here, all around us, and it is inescapable. With every day that Voldemort gains strength, more people fall against his power and bend to his will. I therefore ask each and every one of you to find the strength within you to fight against him. This does not mean take risks, nor does it mean to put yourselves in needless danger. I ask you simply to remember who you are and what you believe in, and to stay united with your friends and family. The more you put all your heart into doing this, the more chance there is of seeing all of you who are to return to Hogwarts back in this hall next year." There were murmurings, everyone realizing at the same time what Dumbledore meant by this. Nobody was safe. Anybody could die.

"For those of you who are to leave the school in a week," Dumbledore continued, and his blue eyes looked directly over to where I was sitting with me friends, "know this. The magic of this castle gives you a great protection while you remain within its walls. Do not be lulled into a false sense of security because of this. This is not a time for risk taking, or glory hunting. This is a time where we must pull together and work with each other if we are to have any chance of surviving the evil that is arising in the world around us. Help will never be refused to someone who has been part of Hogwarts if they ask for it, but you must understand that this help does not and cannot mean eternal protection. It is down to you, as individuals, to defend yourselves, and to fight for the lives of those you love. I wish every one of you luck, wherever your lives may take you."

Silence followed this speech. I looked round the hall and saw a sea of terrified faces. A few smug smiles stood out at the Slytherin table, but even there the main expression on people's faces was one of fear. Opposite me, Peter looked the most petrified of all. Sirius's eyes were shut as if in prayer and Lily was staring up at Dumbledore with a kind of fire blazing in her green eyes. James and I met each other's gaze across the table, and in his eyes was a look of grim resignation. This was it, I realized. No more pretence. No more safety. Dumbledore's seriousness brought home to me exactly how grave the situation was. From the moment we stepped out of safety of the castle walls, we really were going to be plunged into the midst of war.

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